


Behind My Eyelids Are Islands Of Violence

by whisperingwind



Series: epilepsy 'verse [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Brain Surgery, Canon Compliant, Epilepsy, Family, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Neurological Disorders, Protectiveness, References to Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 12:17:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 122,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3487997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperingwind/pseuds/whisperingwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has epilepsy. No matter what time it is or where he's to be located, Louis will always come running.</p><p>Title from "Migraine" by twenty one pilots</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Behind My Eyelids Are Islands Of Violence](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5706538) by [malishka1011](https://archiveofourown.org/users/malishka1011/pseuds/malishka1011)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's the trailer i whipped up  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFnIBBVWbMw

Louis opens his eyes lethargically to the sound of rapid, alarmed thumping against his hotel room door.

He glances over at the alarm clock sitting on the bedside table and wonders if he's missed his alarm. If he has than he can _guarantee_ himself the pounding on the opposing side of the door is an exasperated member of their production team preparing to - for a lack of better words - "chew him out".

The clock reads that it's only two in the morning, meaning he has another six hours before he’s meant to wake up and drive to the airport.

Usually, he's awake at this time with Zayn, playing an illimitable playlist of undiscovered rap artists and smoking a joint to calm the adrenaline rushing through his veins.

Sun Life had been sizable tonight, over 53, 000 fans attended. It was the last show of the Where We Are tour. Now, it was back to the UK as soon as morning came.

All of the boys agree, it's hard to wind down from a concert as unbelievably and astonishingly massive like the one tonight. Stadium shows leave them feeling entirely different than arena shows do.

The music still pulsates dully in Louis’s ears. In spite of his raw, burning throat, he still wants to belt out the lyrics to _Right Now_. His vocals are always noticeably stronger when they perform that track, not to mention it’s always a crowd pleaser. 

He begins to lay his head back on the pillow, he needs all the sleep he can get and after all, it probably is one of their music producers preparing to beg him to redo a chorus for their new album, FOUR \- the underline one hundred percent necessary. He doesn't know who else it could possibly be, most know not to bother him when he’s sleeping. He never wakes up with a positive attitude. 

“Louis! Are you awake? Lou, get up!” He hears the disembodied voice shout through the door. He recognizes it, but he’s too dazed to tell who it is. It's definitely either one of the boys or security.

Louis gradually pulls the cover back, allowing a shock of cold air to attack his partially bare body, and he climbs out of bed. A shiver runs down his spine. This causes him to briefly debate answering the door with the duvet tugged tightly around his body. 

Perhaps he wouldn't be as cold if his bloody fiancé had joined him. He doesn't sleep very well when he's alone in bed as it is, though hotel rooms make everything a bit worse. They're too unfamiliar, but Harry can't stand when he sleeps on the tour bus. And they can't both fit in a single bunk on the bus which means no cuddles for Harry and he doesn't like that idea at all.

Of course, the one night he doesn't choose to stay up until the early hours of the morning - though one a.m. is hardly a reasonable bedtime considering how busy their lives are, is the one night Harry decides he wants to stay up with the boys. 

“Louis! Come on, mate, you really need to wake up. Louis.” It’s Liam. His senses are starting to come back to him. He can tell by the trepidation in the voice, also known as the tone only Liam gets in his voice when something has gone wrong. 

The first thing that comes to his mind, as morbid as it is, is that Sophia has broken it off with Liam. They’d been having problems, recently with the distance and rumors taking a severe turn for the worst in recent weeks. He understands the need for support, but why couldn’t he go to Zayn who offers spiritual advice, ‘aha. life’s crazy.’, or Niall who’s not well experienced but could humor him out of contemplating it, or Harry who’s humble and would do anything to get his mind off of it. Why him? He’s not experienced in his own relationship with his own fiancé, for Christ’s sake, but he’s all about being a ‘daredevil’ and living on the edge, figuratively, which is rather handy in a depressing situation, he supposes.

He’s pegged notoriously by management and the label as Tomlinson the Troublemaker. It has a nice ring to it. Louis supposes that he already has his name sorted out for when he's no longer in a boy band and working as a one man act in sleazy night clubs. 

It's not like management and the label are wrong. After all, he  _is_ the person who enticed Zayn into smoking marijuana when he was down about rumors circulating his relationship with Perrie.

Louis doesn’t bother putting a shirt or sweats on, the boys have seen it all many times before, why would he start to impress now?

The invasive pounding on the door hasn’t stopped, it's increased in sound and speed, if anything.

“Lou-“ Liam’s in the middle of calling Louis’s name when the man of the hour himself yanks the door open.

He immediately realizes that there’s something off about Liam’s demeanor. “Liam it’s nearly two thirty in the morning. What could you possibly need?”

The buff brunette appears to be panicking, out of breath, and fidgety.

“Harry’s having a seizure. It’s a grand-mal.”

Louis doesn’t verbally express an emotion at first, instantly becoming conscious of everything, he can feel his heart thumping against his sternum. Liam swallows down his fear and anxiety, his current emotions aren't even comparable to what Louis must be feeling, and he leads Louis to Niall's room.

Louis can't speak, he can't get words to form, there's too much adrenaline pumping in his body.

Louis and all the boys know about Harry’s history with seizures. He’s had epilepsy since he was young, about four, due to a "chemical imbalance" in his brain. They’re a rare occurrence due to many factors, but mainly because Harry takes medication to keep them at bay. He’s only ever had a handful of seizures in front of them, most of which were solitary with Louis and managed to make Louis’s heart stop and subsequently put him in a protective mode for weeks to follow.

The first seizure he ever underwent in front of Louis left a trail of mortification from his end and one of concern on Louis’s. Granted, it took place without warning; neither of them had expected Harry to collapse in the midst of speaking about his time working as a baker for the umpteenth time.

To this day, it was the most alarming incident Louis had ever been forced to witness. He hadn’t understood what he needed to provide in order to protect Harry’s welfare at that point in time.

All five of the boys always stay on the same floor of the hotel, typically in rooms’ right beside each other, if not rooms a few doors down. It’s convenient for all involved. Security gets a better handle on the boys’ location to ascertain their safety and the boys are able to go room to room without difficulty.

It’s a quick run to Niall’s room, where Liam informs Louis the travesty has happened, and Louis forces himself to take a deep, focused breath before he opens the door.

He has no idea what he’s walking in on.

Liam remains stoic and silent, a normal behavior for the younger lad, as he stands adjacent to Louis. He places a hand on his upper bicep, squeezing in reassurance. “It’ll be alright.” He soothes, but Louis can’t find comfort in those words until he declares it for himself.

"He hasn't had a fit like this in months. I hate seeing him like this." He's trying to collect his composure before he walks inside. He certainly doesn't want to break down in front of the boys or more importantly in front of Harry when he's in such a time of need. He can already feel tears starting to surface. 

"I know. I know, Lou, but it's going to be alright. I promise." 

He's wasting precious time, whether he's prepared or not no longer matters. Harry needs him. Louis grabs the handle of the door, allowing himself another deep inhale, before he wrenches the door open. He’s greeted with the hapless, unnerving sight of Harry withering on the floor, Zayn kneeling down adjacent to him and attempting to cushion Harry’s head, with his hand, from smashing off of the floor, and Niall standing off to the side with a petrified, wide-eyed stare and his thumb nail wedged in between his scarcely parted lips.

The two conscious boys whirl their heads around to face Liam and Louis in the doorway.

Louis doesn’t hesitate at the door, unlike Liam who’s too distraught to react to the current situation playing out in front of him. He’s on his knees beside Harry in what can only be counted in nanoseconds. His index and middle fingers attach to Harry’s neck, checking for his pulse, he’s relived when he discovers it to be consistent. “How long has he been seizing?”

Zayn replies, apprehension and indisposition evident in his decrepit tone, “I don’t know, exactly.”

“How long has he been seizing?” Louis repeats, dangerously close to losing his patience.

Niall clears his throat, in attempt to sound unperturbed, though his voice still manages to sound faint, “A minute or so.”

Louis doesn’t reply, instead his fingers brush against Harry’s trembling upper arm. He’s going to be sick. "You're doing so good darling," He whispers. Multiple times or not, it’s rough to see the love of his life in such condition. “Liam, don’t just fucking stand there, fetch me a pillow, would you?"

“Help me get him on his side, Z.” Louis directs and both of them gently roll Harry onto his left side, facing Louis, and Louis lightly runs his fingers through a section of Harry’s hair. “You’re going to be alright, babe. Bear with me now. It’ll all be over soon. I promise, you've just got to hold on a few seconds longer for me." he whispers, sweetly.

Harry’s body is moving in inhumane ways, limbs flailing like a child who’s drowning, and neck arching upwards and side to side. There's a repetitive high-pitched squeal pushing past his lips, "Hush, love, it's okay. Shh. You're okay," His fingertips skims over Harry's clammy forehead. There isn't one single part of him that isn't spasming or twitching, “What happened? Did this happen out of nowhere?”

“We were just chilling out and we could tell something was a bit off. By the time he admitted he felt poorly, he was already standing up to go get you and he fell out on the floor as soon as he stood.” Zayn explains, voice pitched octaves higher and horrified.

A pillow is thrust in front of Louis face and Louis gives Liam a grateful glance to which Liam solemnly nods and steps back. Louis immediately shoves the pillow under Harry’s head as Zayn holds the younger boys head up. “Come on, love, it'll be alright,” Louis encourages; his fingers continue to graze Harry’s abnormally warm flesh. “What do you mean he was a bit off?”

“Well you know how he gets.”

Louis clenches his jaw. “I can’t say that I do.”

Niall’s the first one to speak up, “His words were slurred, could hardly understand him, he wasn’t making much sense either, and he was blinking like he had some sort of tic.”

Louis swears he’s seeing red. His skin is prickling with rage. He whips his head around to face Niall who’s currently being comforted by an exhausted looking Liam. “And you didn’t think it was a bloody good idea to come and get me?”

Liam sighs, “Louis. Don’t take it out on Niall.”

“Yeah, Lou, it isn’t his fault Harry had a seizure.” Zayn quickly adds.

“I’m not taking anything out on anyone! You three twats completely ignored the signs of a seizure. Why?”

“We thought he was tired. He gets like that when he’s tired and -” Niall tries to rationalize, but he’s cut short by the look of rage Louis shoots him.

“Make yourself useful and go get a wet cloth,” he says, acridly, speaking through clenched teeth. He’s going to hold a grudge over this one for a while.

Niall scurries off to the bathroom and both Zayn and Liam remain silent in attempt to keep Louis from becoming more infuriated.

Louis looks back at Harry and swallows. He sincerely hopes he'll quit thrashing soon, if this seizure goes past five minutes then he’s required to get an ambulance on the phone because it guarantees something isn't right in that beautifully troubled head of his. "Come on, Harry. Come back to me darling. I need you to quit seizing, okay? You're scaring me here." He whispers and gently comes into contact with Harry's cheek. He definitely doesn't like the burning sensation that greets his palm when he touches him. It isn't a feeling a passion, but a physical feeling of Harry becoming overheated.

Harry's face is flushed and painfully tense. His eyelids are clenched tightly and his lips are composed in a tight line, looking nothing like the gentle featured Harry he knows.

A quiet discomforted noise eludes Zayn's mouth after Harry stiffly and involuntarily smacks Zayn's thigh. Louis glances up at him, with a perilous look in his stormy blue eyes and sharp traits as if telling him he'd better suck it up. Zayn quickly mutters an apology.

Louis doesn't understand where the seizure emerged from. Harry had been acting normal, as normal as Harry can possibly act, all day.

Realization suddenly hits Louis; Harry had been exhibiting signs of a seizure all day.

In their dressing room earlier this afternoon Harry had been repining of a headache, but when Louis had gone into full coddling parental mode, Harry had backed off and assured him it wasn’t too bad. He loathes dragging attention to himself; he once confided in Louis and told him the attention makes him feel like a helpless child.

After the concert Louis distinctly remembers getting on the tour bus and Harry grabbing and leaning all his weight onto the arm of the couch, complaining of feeling light-headed and nauseous, but Louis had passed it off as getting too worked up during the show, Harry was always dancing on stage and he often exerted himself. Harry told him he was right and he went to go lay down and that was the end of it.

“Louis. He stopped.” Zayn apprises.

All of Louis’s attention falls back onto Harry and Zayn’s right about something, Harry has finally stopped seizing. There’s still tremors’ running through his body, but in descending intervals.

Niall comes back out with a damp washcloth and Louis snatches it away from him, without as much as a vocalization or a glance. He drapes it over Harry’s forehead after having Zayn assist him with laying Harry onto his back once more.

“Did he hit his head?” Louis asks, quietly, as he cards his fingers through Harry’s dark curls which only make his complexion _that_ much prettier.

Harry is a princess. Harry is now to be referred to as Snow White in Louis’s mind. He can’t wait to marry this boy and the temptation furthers with each second he spends with him, seizing, unconscious, or fully awake.

“He might have, but he isn’t bleeding and I didn’t see any bumps.” Zayn says.

Liam swallows harshly. “He went down pretty hard. I didn’t move fast enough to break his fall. I’m sorry Louis.”

“It’s okay,” Louis manages to say. “At least you moved the coffee table and the couches out of the way, yeah? You lads did well.” Louis feels around Harry's head for any lumps. “He’s going to be just fine. I’m sure the carpet gave him a bit of a cushion. Did he fall forward or back?"

"Forward." Liam whispers.

Louis watches Harry closely. He appears incredibly young. His skin tone is a bit paler and flushed than normal which is understandable from the fit he had seconds ago and his lips are scarcely parted and graced with a deep pink tint. He’s gorgeous even considering the circumstances. If this is what he appears like when he’s sleeping than Louis should watch him more often. This boy is a literal angel. He’s marrying heaven’s gift to this world.

“Um – Louis?”

“What Niall?” Louis snaps, the words sharper and more venomous than he intended. His expression softens a bit once he realizes Niall didn’t know what to do and it isn’t entirely his fault, it’s partially everyone’s fault, himself included. He should have questioned Harry earlier. “What Niall?” Louis repeats, this time more gentle in nature.

“He – Harry, he, uh,” Niall nods towards him and Louis doesn’t quite understand. Niall’s nodding at something concrete but Louis still doesn’t quite understand, that is until he sees the wet spot sousing the front of Harry’s sweatpants.

“Oh.” He whispers and he knows, he just knows, Harry’s going to be ten times more mortified than he already will be. He’s more sensitive than usual after seizures.

“Here mate,” Liam pulls his flannel off and tosses it to Louis. Louis replies with a tight-lipped smile. He swathes the flannel across Harry’s thighs and crotch.

It’s almost immediately after Louis slings the flannel over Harry's hips that a reaction starts to arouse from Harry. It’s easy to miss at first; he starts to shift under the analyzing stares of Louis, Liam, Zayn, and Niall. “That’s it, love, open your gorgeous green eyes for me. Take your time, I’m not going anywhere,” Louis whispers, encouragingly, as swipes his thumb back and forth over Harry’s cheekbone.

Small whimpers of _Lou_ start to emit their way from Harry’s parted lips. “That’s it sweetheart. Open your eyes for me. I’m right here.” He whispers and slowly, but surely, Harry’s eyes flutter open. His eyes are unfocused, he has to blink multiple times in order to even remotely clear his vision, and once his sight is no longer blurry, he winces at the unnatural lighting in the room.

All the boys remain silent as Harry begins to come to, in fact, they all exchange glances before silently deciding to walk out to the balcony and leave Louis to tend to Harry. Zayn pats Louis’s back on the way out of the room.

“ _Harry_.” Louis whispers, sweetly, and Harry’s eyes lethargically move to meet Louis’s. He looks exhausted and utterly confused of everything. “Harry, baby, do you know who I am?”

It takes Harry a few seconds to react, but he nods. “'m 'ou.” he mumbles, his words are garbled together and it’s difficult for Louis to understand, but he gets the idea of it. _My Lou._

“Your Lou?” Louis teases and he presses a kiss to Harry’s cheek.

“Mm. Wha' - What 'appened?” Harry asks. He's in obvious distress.

“You had a seizure, babe.”

Harry opens his mouth to speak, but instead gives a small moan before he vomits. Louis is definitely prepared for it, unfortunately that’s usually what Harry does after he starts to revive from a seizure, and helps Harry move back onto his side as he empties the contents of his stomach on the hotel room carpet. “It’s alright, Haz. Relax. It’s perfectly fine. Breathe.”

He’ll get room service to take care of the small puddle of vomit. It isn’t his number one priority right this moment.

Louis slides the wet cloth off of Harry’s forehead and tosses it to the side. “Are you finished love? Think you can sit up?” Louis asks, patiently and calmly. Harry gives him a weak nod and so then Louis helps Harry sit up. It’s a bit of a struggle because Harry’s muscles are still stiff and weak, it leaves Louis to do most of the work. He doesn’t mind too much though.

He wraps his arms around Harry’s waist tightly and Harry buries his face into Louis’s shoulder. They stay like that for a few moments, in absolute silence as they both gain their composure. Louis’s blood pressure decreases gradually as his panic deteriorates.

Louis hands carefully brush over different areas of Harry’s body, checking for any injuries. “Harry, does anything hurt?”

“Just my head.” Harry whispers, sniffling quietly. His arms are securely around Louis and he has no intentions of letting go.

Louis pulls away from the boy and places his hands on either one of Harry’s cheeks, forcing him to pay attention. “Where does your head hurt?”

Harry vaguely points to a region right around the crown of his head. Louis sighs and he gently runs one hand through Harry’s thick mop of hair. He’s done this close to a million times because his little sisters are a tad clumsier than Harry. He doesn’t feel any bumps, but he knows there will be odd bruising in strange parts of his body and soreness when Harry wakes up in the morning, but he hopes it won’t be too severe.

“I don’t feel anything.” Louis whispers and places a gentle kiss on Harry’s temple. “Can you tell me what the last thing you remember is?”

“I didn’t feel well and I stood up to go get you.” At least his story matches up with the boys and he isn’t thoroughly deranged, that’s a weight off of Louis’s shoulders.

Louis kisses Harry’s hairline. “Tell me about this mysterious sickness, yeah?”

“I felt spacey. I couldn’t focus, Lou, and my vision was really blurry and I kept trying to blink it away. I felt detached and I knew something bad was going to happen, I could just feel it in the pit of my stomach, you know? My muscles kept tightening up and when I stood I couldn’t move.” Harry explains.

Louis feels awful; his heart breaks a bit at having to hear the tone Harry discusses it with. He sounds disgusted with himself. “Why didn’t you have one of the boys come and get me?”

“I didn’t want to bother you. I thought I could make it go away myself, but by the time I realized that I was about to have a seizure it was too late.”

“Don’t talk like that. You could never bother me. I love you way too much. If you’re going to have a seizure, I want to be there. I don’t care what time it is or where I am. I want to be there, understand?”

Harry swallows. “Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good,” Louis draws in a deep breath. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Me too,” Harry hesitates. “Lou, can I ask you a question?”

Louis nods. “Anything you want babe. What’s up?”

“Is this Liam’s flannel?” He asks as he runs his fingers over the soft fabric.

Louis manages to squeak out, “Yes.”

“Why is Liam’s flannel on my lap?” He pulls back the red and black flannel, revealing the dark and damp spot covering his crotch, before Louis gets a chance to explain and a cry leaves Harry’s lips, “Oh no.” His chest heaves with anguish and he looks terrified. “Oh no.” Tears well up in his emerald green eyes and his cheeks shift to a dark crimson color.

“Harry, don’t cry. Oh no, baby please don’t cry.” Louis quickly tries to assure him that it’s alright, but Harry’s past comfort, crying silently as he stares at the wet spot.

He covers his face with his hands and sobs into them. “I’m fucking disgusting. Oh god.”

“You’re not disgusting. No, you’re not disgusting. Don’t say that. Harry, listen to me.” Louis places his hands over Harry’s. “Would you listen to me?”

“I’m twenty years old and I’ve pissed my pants, Louis.”

“You had a seizure Harry. Look at you, you are a brave twenty year old living with a disability,” Harry spreads his fingers and peeks through at Louis. He sniffles in response. “You are a worldwide phenomenon with a hidden disability. You’re brave and I love you because you’re courageous and strong enough to live past this and follow your aspirations.”

They chose not to tell the fans because that isn’t what Harry wanted to be known as. He didn’t want to be known as a boyband member with epilepsy. He wanted to be known as caring and loving Harry Styles, a member of the successful and unique boyband One Direction. Louis can’t say that he doesn’t agree because he does, whole-heartedly, and when the day comes where Harry has an episode in front of the fans then that will be the day they’ll choose to announce it.

Harry giggles. “I love you too.” He places a kiss on Louis’s jaw and then Louis’s left cheekbone and then Louis’s cute button nose and then Louis’s perfectly pink lips.

Louis can’t help but grin. “Now that we have that settled, why don’t we get you up and to bed?”

Louis stands up, only to lean down and grip underneath Harry’s arms in order to help him stand up. Usually, Harry tends to have weakness on the right side of his body after a seizure and requires a bit of assistance. “You’re going to have to help me. I can’t get you up all on me lonesome.”

Harry assists Louis in standing himself up more than either of them expected and he hardly needs Louis, but he wouldn’t be able to make it back to Louis’s room without his assistance. He uses Louis as a post to lean on as they walk and Louis can honestly say he wouldn’t want it any other way.

Yes, Louis is definitely going to marry this boy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for blood mention.

"Alright, boys, you're going to go out in five minutes, understand? When you get out there you're going to smile for the fans, maybe take a few pictures with them, and avoid answering any questions the paparazzi ask." Alberto expounds, as the three of them - along with multiple strict looking security members - stand in the terminal, glowering at both Harry and Louis. "And this -" he gestures to Harry and Louis' intertwined hands. "- this isn't going to work," 

"Obviously Alberto," Louis rolls his eyes. It's a simple concept. He's had this explained to him over a thousand times now. It started to become annoying after the second time. He gets it. Don't look or interact with Harry in public, it may raise national conspiracy and the last thing they need, ostensibly, is the truth coming to a front. "How many times are you guys going to tell us this? We get the same speech every day. We get it." He glances up at Harry who remains silent with his eyes fixated on a ragged rip in his flannel.

"I know Louis, but it isn't you who struggles with the rules." Alberto additionally peers at Harry.

Louis is quick to defend Harry, his voice agitated and rough, "It isn't his fault. You have to understand that it isn't in his nature to treat me poorly. You're demanding him to be something he's not."

"It isn't about him treating you poorly Louis, you know that. It's about keeping your relationship under wraps and when he goes around giving you fond stares and smiles it messes with your contract." Alberto explains with a certain gentleness evident in his tone. The hard expression on his face fades into one of - endearment, oddly enough.

He's always treated Louis like a son and Louis does have the characteristics of a son - disobedience and recklessness, but also love and admiration. 

Even through the respect Louis holds in his heart for the older man he can't help but feel irked with all of these regulations he's putting in place. Granted, Louis can't say he blames him for attempting to stay away from the unemployment line. Alberto is good spirited and a splendid man to have on their security team. Though, it doesn't change the fact that the entire ordeal is exasperating and unnecessary no matter who takes the opportunity to explain it.

"Actually, if I may, the contract never specified in anything particular. It expressed - and vaguely at that, that we aren't allowed to disclose any information about our relationship to the public. Which we've abided, so what type of proof do harmless interactions justify?"

"Look, Louis, you know how I feel about you, you're a great kid, but," Alberto sighs, shaking his head at the boy’s audacious attitude. "I don't have time to discuss this with you, again."

Louis scoffs, "Of course you don't want to talk about it. Why would you? It's always been a fucking elephant in the room, why should we change anything and discuss it now?"

Harry conclusively speaks, only to scold him. "Louis. Be nice."

Louis silences himself. They both glance at Alberto. "Regular procedure then?" Harry asks.

"Affirmative," Alberto ventures to joke, but Louis only continues to glare at him. "Harry, you're going to head out first, Louis after him, and I'll have security form a barrier around the two of you. We don’t have an exact idea of how chaotic the fans are yet."

Harry nods, understanding what he's been told, "Let's do it then. We’re good to go, right?" He turns to Louis.

"Yeah."

"Alright, I'll call it in to the car outside." Alberto dismisses himself, only to walk a few paces away to make a phone call. Louis' attention immediately shifts back to Harry.

Louis stands on his tiptoes and leans to press a kiss under Harry's ear; he runs his fingers through Harry's hair. "You alright to go out there love?"

"I'm good, yeah. How about you? Are you alright?" Harry whispers in response, tilting his head back into Louis's touch, and shutting his eyes at the soothing sensation.

Louis smiles, “I was born ready.”

"God. I love you." 

Louis' heart skips a beat. He'll never get used to the feeling those words fill him with.

There's no hesitation when he says, "I love you too," A small smirk tugs at his lips. "Oh, by the way, I enjoyed your plane tricks. I hope you can show me some more on the way to Japan." The image is clear in his mind. He remembers the way Harry's lips had been wrapped around his swollen, throbbing cock and the way his cheeks glistened with tears in the dim lighting. 

Plane restrooms aren't ideally the best place to give a blow job, but he needed somewhere to get off and he didn't mind the amount of times his head hit the wall. After all, he was getting his dick sucked by Snow White himself, what more could he ask for?

Harry laughs at that, cheeks tinting to a tulip pink color, and his eyes crinkle in the corners. This is the Harry Louis wants to see every day for the rest of his life, a genuinely happy Harry. The best Harry there is.

"Maybe I can show you a trick or two, yeah?" Louis whispers, lowly, in his ear. Harry giggles, literally giggles, and Louis can't help but grin like he's won the lottery, and he virtually has.

Harry leans down and buries his face against Louis's neck, wrapping his arms securely around the older boy. "I can't wait until we're alone again sunshine." He whispers all while Louis is inhaling his scent. He's washed up with that damn vanilla shampoo, again. The one scent Louis can't get enough of. Everything in their houses are vanilla scented, hand soaps, body washes, chapsticks, and candles.

If they made decent smelling vanilla lube then Louis would be the first to buy it.

Alberto walks back over to the two of them. "Alright, love birds, break it up. We need to get the two of you out to the car, remember what I said, alright?"

Louis is dangerously close to losing his patience. "We know." He rubs Harry's back. "Okay, babes, I don't think the crowds too large today, and we'll be reunited in the car anyways, yes?" He pushes Harry's curls away from the side of his face and places a kiss to his temple.

Harry nods in agreement and pulls away from the comfort of his loved one. "Alright Harry, come on," Alberto guides, hand on the small of his back, and he steers him in the right direction "Good lad. Come on."

Louis wants to break his hand off on principle.

Harry looks over his shoulder and smiles at Louis, mouthing 'I love you’ to which Louis gives him their universal sign - a thumbs up.

Louis is lead out moments after Harry, which makes him want to protest why they weren't allowed to exit together if he was literally going to follow two feet behind Harry anyways.

There are hardly any fans inside the airport. It's not because they're in Australia, though, Louis has reason to believe the fans were escorted out of the airport in order to make it seem as though he and Harry had arrived on different flights or something as stupidly incoherent.

Management fails to realize that their fans are far from being even remotely considered idiots. They're brilliant. They know their way around social media, technology, photoshop, contracts, and anything else involved with disclosing Larry Stylinson.

There are a few paps taking pictures, but not enough to cause much frenzy for security. It won't be too chaotic until they get outside. It will either be a major hassle or a matter of keeping an eye out for hidden fans. Security is always on the lookout for stragglers that break the barriers.

Louis is the first one to notice the stumble Harry has when he's walking. There's nothing evident to trip on, but Harry's never precisely been graceful either. "Harry, are you alright?" he asks, expeditiously. He wants to reach out to touch him but there's still a very select few cameras flashing and he can't imperil the contract. It's up to him, he can't ruin this for himself or Harry or the boys or the members of their team that he actually likes. The weight of the world is on his shoulders.

Harry replies, in his tranquil and composed voice, though his tone is lacking a bit of confidence, "I'm fine. Just lost my footing for a moment."

"Alright, boys, Harry we'll load you into the car first and then Louis will follow. It's too jeopardous for both of you to go out there at once. There aren’t enough eyes to watch both you and all of the fans." Alberto expresses, critically.

"Great. Thanks." Harry smiles in gratitude. Louis wishes the little things in life made him as happy as they made Harry; maybe he wouldn't be bitter all the time.

The small army of security guards continues to march their way to the exit doors where high pitched screaming and wailing can be heard from just beyond the glass doors.

Harry turns to gape at Louis in a wide eyed, frightened circumstance.

Louis doesn't think much of it. Sizable crowds have always scared Harry. He doesn't like his movements to be constricted, which is ironic considering his epilepsy, but then again who does like being held down.

He's not nearly as bad as Niall when it comes to walking through throngs of people. Niall has panic attacks as soon as there is any mention of large crowds, even if they are restricted.

"It's okay, babe. Security's going to take good care of you." Louis whispers. God, he just wants to touch Harry. Once. Just a pat on the back or a hug or something to make him feel more comfortable.

Harry's frightened expression doesn't fade though. Louis can clearly hear his breathing. He's hyperventilating. "Harry the car's right outside, not even fifty feet away love. It's fine. I'll be out in a few moments, I promise," He whispers, stepping closer to his younger boyfriend. Now that he's closer he sees how pale Harry has gotten in the last few minutes. He notices the tremors in his hands. "Alberto."

"Yes?"

"He doesn't look too well. Can we give it a few more minutes?"

Alberto gazes at Harry, for a second opinion, "It'll take thirty seconds to get him out to the car. The longer we wait, the more hectic it's going to get. We need to get you two out there as soon as possible."

"I understand, but -"

"Louis, I'm sorry. We need to get you two out of here now." 

Anyone associated with the band knows of Louis's attitude and communication skills. The only person he treats well and with respect almost one hundred percent of the time is Harry, which is why his emotions towards others are dictated by how his day is going with Harry. The rare times when he does fight with Harry force his personality to be more than unpleasant until they've made up, but times like now are when he’s at his softest and most vulnerable.

"Come on, H, let's go. It'll be alright. I'll bring Louis right out to you." Alberto instructs and the doors finally open only to fill the airport with profoundly savage yells and chants.

Harry shakes his head, "Lou - I, no, Louis. I'm going to -"

"I'll be right out. You're going to be okay."

"No I'm - I think -"

Louis is unable to refrain from wincing at how loud the crowd is. He’s brisk to reiterate, interrupting Harry, "I'll be right out."

He doesn't quite understand why he's not getting a reaction out of Harry. Harry's staring at him with an utterly detached expression; his hands clench and loosen at his side in odd intervals, mere seconds apart. "Babe?" Louis murmurs. He can feel some sort of detrimental presence in the pit of his stomach and he knows that the feeling isn't good, but he can't fathom what exactly is causing the unsteadiness.

The fans are behind a barrier of security and steel railing, caged in like lunatics, as if they've been found guilty of a horrendous crime rather than solely being teenagers obsessed with international pop sensations.

It's daunting.

Sure, immense crowds frighten Louis too, but not to the extent they do any of the other boys. He doesn't find pleasure in all of the nasty elbows he takes to the face or the hands that grope his ass, but he can make do with it as long as he is ensured a soft bed to sleep in with Harry at the end of the night.

Half of the militia begin leading Harry outside. Harry displays his beauty pageant wave to all the fans, putting on the most charismatic and valiant smile he can.

He's halfway to the car when Louis realizes it's all about to crumble.

Those flashes aren't good for Harry. There's so many of them and they appear infinite. They've nearly in Harry's face and they haven't ceased, not once.

This is part of the reason Harry filed a restraining order against the paparazzi. Flashes are triggers, and not in an emotional sense, they set something off in his neural activity. It's far worse in airports, but usually he has his sunglasses which provide a bit of protection or he's able to block it out from the barrier of fans.

Harry stumbles again and Louis is grateful when he catches himself, hoping for the best, though he recognizes the sudden shift in the way Harry walks and it all becomes too authentic. He's walking like the rest of his body is too heavy for his legs to hold up.

His muscles are incredibly tense and he can scarcely move them. He begins to slow down and Louis can faintly make out security shouting at him to hurry up. 

Harry's losing control over his neural functions, that much is evident to only Louis, and it signifies only one thing.

Harry’s going to have a seizure and in front of all those fans and the paparazzi.

Louis's about to scream it to Alberto, to assist Harry back inside or maybe even cushion the fall.

He's far too late.

Harry collapses to the pavement, head first, smacking his head off the ground with a thud that Louis doesn't personally hear, but imagines. Though, the one he imagines is thoroughly as grotesque.

It's not until the horrified screams start to leave the crowd that Louis realizes his worst nightmare is on display right in front of his own eyes. "Fuck! Oh my god! Harry! Harry!" he screams in shock, his voice foreign to his own ears.

His eyes start to burn with hot surfacing tears and his legs suddenly feel incapable of holding him upright. He brings a hand to his forehead wearily as if he were about to dramatically faint, a strange appearance for him.  He's always calm, never panicked, not like this at least.

This isn't happening. This isn't happening. This isn’t happening.

He starts to move forward. "Tomlinson, you can't go out there. You'd be in violation of your contract." One of the security sentinels - Louis hasn't bothered with his name, but Harry definitely knows it, Harry knows everyone's name - restrains him, holding his arms as though he's some kind of child.

"Are you serious? That's my fiancé! He's having a fucking seizure! Let go! Let go of me!" His voice is several octaves higher than usual, panicked and furious.

Harry isn't shaking or thrashing, yet. He's stiff, muscles rigid, and Louis prays that it's as bad as it's going to get. Even though deep down he knows that it's far from over.

Security is on their knees all around Harry, touching him and holding him down, seeking to comfort him.

Louis knows there's a large mass of people surrounding him, trying to help him, not hurt him, but they're not even following procedure. They can't hold him down when he's seizing, they could seriously injure him, they could very well break his bones. Aside from that, Harry needs to be left on his side or he's going to fucking choke to death on his own saliva.

Louis needs to be out there with him. Harry needs Louis and Louis needs to be with Harry.

It's realistically thirty seconds before the thrashing develops and it's horrifying once it does. The tears he had been holding back finally free themselves. This is torture, he can see from where he's being restrained that Harry's in pain and in danger. He has to do something. 

He's never begged for anything in his life. There's a first for everything. 

"Let go of me! Isn't it my own choice if I want to break contract? My fiancé is having an epileptic seizure and you're not letting me tend to him? He needs me and nobody else. Let go of me. Please. He could die if they're not giving him proper first aid." Louis retaliates, his voice has gone incredibly vulnerable. He's scared.

The security guard releases his grip on Louis’s arms, clearing his throat, but not saying anything. "Thank you." Louis says, viciously, through clenched teeth.

As morbid as it is, the fans screaming turns back to ebullience for a handful of moments when Louis runs out.

Alberto begins to scold him, only to be interrupted, "Lou -"

"Don't even start with me," He snaps. "You all need to back away from him. He needs room. You can't hold him down like that." Nobody moves, he's left with only one option.

He practically screams, "Back the fuck off!" 

The guards stand up and step back, one by one, standing nearby the monstrosity that's occurring right in front of their own eyes.

Alberto is the only one Louis allows to stay near and he's hardly pleasant about it.

"He needs to be on his side, left side preferably. If you don't think you can move him without hurting him, then leave him. He'll be okay." Louis directs. Alberto manages to help Louis adjust Harry without sparking complaint. 

The worst part of the experience for Louis is when Harry's eyes are wide open and it's unfortunately one of those situations. Louis can see and endure all the pain Harry's in by risking a few glances, even if Harry can't communicate it. Harry isn't coherent enough to look directly at him, his pupils are unfocused, but Louis swears there's emotion hidden behind them. 

Nevertheless, his open eyes cause a flare of something terrifying to run up Louis's spine.

"It's okay. Shh. It's going to be okay." He whispers in reassurance, utilizing his sleeve to wipe the spit that's emerging from Harry's mouth. Louis can hardly stomach the trembling of Harry's face when his fingers brush against it. "Shh. You're going to be just fine, love. It's okay." He keeps his eyes on Harry's, but Harry eyes remain to twitch. He resembles a deer in headlights. "It's okay. You're okay darling."

Alberto watches Louis thoroughly, swallowing at not only how terrible this is, but how much compassion Louis has for him. "Can you get security to make a barrier between us and the fans? Media outlets don't need any more footage of this."

"Good idea." Alberto stands up and walks over to the security team, to calmly instruct them to do so, yelling orders is only going to cause more chaos and they don't need any more of that at this time.

"I'm sorry Harry. I know this is the last thing you wanted," Louis whispers, his hand that hasn't take on the task of wiping Harry's mouth, rubs gentle circles against his chest. "Darling, you're okay. I need you to come back to me. It's okay. "

The way Harry moves when he's seizing never fails to make Louis queasy. He moves like a fish out of water. The simile appears humorous, but this seizure is anything but comical.

"Lou, take this," Alberto's voice becomes present once again and this time he's holding out a neon yellow safety vest. Louis glances at him quizzically, as if asking if it's some sort of sick joke.

"What do you suppose I do with this?"

Alberto expresses, unnerved, "Put it under his head."

Louis nods at him and he bundles the safety vest up and sticks it underneath Harry's head. "Is he - oh god," Louis whispers when he discerns the blood seeping out of Harry's head and down his forehead. He swears it wasn't there moments ago.

He must have fell hard to cause as much bleeding as it has, when he falls he typically receives bumps and bruises, but never a gory head wound quite like this. It occurs to him that Harry fell out on cement and nothing was there to catch his fall. He doesn't even know if Harry's concussed. "He's going to need medical attention." Louis whispers, his face suddenly prickling with fear. He pales. "Are there EMTs on call in the airport?" Louis asks, his own hand trembles as he grazes Harry's jawline with nimble fingertips. "Please be okay," he pleads, breath hitching in his throat. "Oh god, Harry please be okay." There are tears that start to form in the corners of his eyes, for the second time in the last few minutes.

He receives multiple smacks to his knees, thighs, and hands from Harry's arms, but he doesn't mind it. He knows if he strives to restrain Harry in any way it could cause him to injure himself further.

"Yes. They're on their way to the exit, Lou." Alberto reassures and he squats down beside Louis. He places his hand on Louis's shoulder and constricts gently. "Take a deep breath. Relax. Harry's going to be just fine. He isn't bleeding an exorbitant amount." Louis swallows as Alberto speaks and he nods in acknowledgment.

"Harry's going to be so pissed. He never wanted to have a fit in front of the fans, oh god," Louis forces a laugh, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, his other has moved, rubbing gentle circles on the side of Harry's neck.

Alberto smiles weakly and he steps away from Louis. Louis is going to make sure Alberto gets a large bonus next time he receives his pay check.

Harry gradually stops spasming and only short jerks of his limbs ensue. He arches his neck, breath uneven and causing a cacophony and mess with every breath. He can't breathe very well through all that saliva building up in his mouth and when he manages a breath, saliva runs from his lips, down his cheeks, to multiple splats on the ground. Louis aims to wipe it away as it comes.

Harry's worked his way back onto his back from all the seizing which isn't completely awful, but it'd be better if he were on his side.

"Baby, are you with me?" Louis whispers, dragging his hand across Harry's chest. It immediately throws Harry into some type of blind, incoherent panic. He starts grabbing and swatting at Louis's hand and arm to push him away. "Harry, it's Louis. It's okay. Relax. Harry, relax. It's me." He whispers, running his fingers over the top of Harry's hand in a coaxing way. "Come back to me. I'm right here. Can you look at me sweetheart? It's okay if you can't. I'm going to help you."

He runs his hand through Harry's hair, one to make him more comfortable and two to see the grisly wound that's bleeding. It's near his hairline along with a few bumps. Louis leans down and kisses his forehead, the opposing side that isn't dripping blood.

Harry's moving beneath him, but not in a twitching, flailing way. He's shifting beneath him, trying to become remotely coherent. Harry's trying as hard as he can to become stable, but his minds awfully foggy and he doesn't know what's going on.

"Harry are you with me? It's okay. Take your time." Louis whispers, patting Harry's cheek.

Harry's eyes start to begin to focus on Louis's nose, oddly enough, and a blur of color comes back to his cheeks. "Harry, do you know who I am?" Louis whispers.

Harry simply nods, reaching out for him, blindly. Louis clasps his hand and constricts it tightly.

"Do you know where you are right now?"

Harry blinks and mumbles out, still distinctly disoriented, "Huh?"

"Do you know where you are?" Louis asks, patience evident in his tone. He understands he needs to give Harry time to recover from his sudden incident. It isn't going to come back to him immediately; he needs a bit to regain his composure.

Harry picks his head up, to study his current environment in order to give Louis a straight answer, and suddenly he winces at the screaming girls, which is a good sign because it signifies his senses are initiating to come back to him entirely, but withal terrible because it's frightening him. He begins to curl back in on himself and Louis swallows.

"No." He replies, miserably, dropping his head back down to lay on the pavement. 

Louis reaches forward. He takes Harry's head in his hand and he helps him rest back against the safety vest.

"I want you to lay just like this, love," Louis kisses the top of his hand. "It's okay. Take a minute. I'm right here and I don't plan on going anywhere."

There's a small pained cry that leaves Harry's mouth and it has Louis scrambling to figure out what's wrong.

"Does anything hurt?" Louis asks and Harry mutters something that Louis doesn't understand. "What was that?" And Harry reiterates, but Louis still can't understand him. "Squeeze my hand for yes, don't squeeze for no." His hand receives a weak squeeze. "Can you tell me what hurts baby?"

"Head. Wrist." Harry tugs his hand away from Louis and Louis allows him to. Louis immediately notices that Harry hasn't moved his other hand at all, that's not good.

Harry inspects his forehead by wiping at it. He pales, even more pale than he is in the moment, at the droplets of blood on his fingertips. "'m sorry." Harry whispers, eyes beginning to tear up.

His hand trembles as he zeros in on the blood coating his fingertips. Louis reaches forward and uses his sweatshirt to wipe the blood staining Harry's fingertips off. Harry watches him in awe and sniffles in response.

"What do you have to be sorry for? Don't apologize. It's okay. Can I see your wrist Harry?" Louis whispers and Harry nods slowly, putting up no fight. "Left wrist." Louis reaches over him and he clutches Harry's arm, right beneath the elbow. "Can you move your hand for me?"

And Harry does, gradually, and he lets out quiet discomforted noises at the sudden jarring.

"I think you sprained it, babe. Do you think you can sit up?" Louis asks.

Harry eyes him, quizzically, "What?"

"Do you think you can sit up or do you need another moment?" he reiterates, tone remaining absolutely gentle.

"Sit up." Harry mumbles and Louis slides his hand under his back to help him in the process of sitting up. Harry's knees are drawn up and his hands remain flat on the pavement.

Harry examines Louis closely and meets his baby blue eyes. After several moments he musters up the voice to ask, “What happened?"

"You had a seizure."

"A seizure. Oh." His eyes still hold a thick glossiness. "I'm sorry." He apologizes, his voice quivering over the two words.

"Shhh. It's okay." Louis rubs soothing circles into his back and he notices how Harry stares off into the distance, conspicuously in his own world, own frame of mind. "You feeling okay?" Louis whispers. "Still dizzy? Harry?"

Harry shifts to look back at Louis and shakes his head.

Louis tends to remind him of multiple things post seizure, one of them being, “I love you.”

Harry smiles weakly. “I love you too.”

Louis hadn't even realized the paramedics were standing around, but he catches them out of the corner of his eyes. They’re standing near security, obviously waiting for the okay from Louis to check on Harry. They most likely had orders from security or Alberto, even more likely, to allow Louis to take care of Harry. Louis takes the best care of Harry and no one else will take that self-claimed title from him.

Louis also tends to get a bit agitated when other people care for Harry. Harry is his. Louis will always be the one to protect Harry, no matter the situation. He will always come running, no matter what time it is or where he’s to be located.

"I'd like for you to examine his head. I can't tell if he's concussed. He fell rather hard." Louis calls over to them and a petite woman with an weak smile approaches them.

She kneels down in front of Harry, setting her rather large first aid kit on the pavement beside her.

"Can you look me sweetheart? Lean forward for me a bit." she commands, sweetly, and Harry visibly moves closer to Louis in a replication to fear.

"Love? She's going to help you. It's okay. You're safe. She wants to make sure you didn't hurt your head too bad." Louis whispers in his ear, rubbing circles on the small of his back. He kisses the side of Harry's head. "I love you. Will you please let her examine you really quick? It'll only take a second. You took a hard fall."

Harry takes a shaky breath and nods; he’d do anything to please Louis.

"Alright, Harry, my name is JoAnne and I just want to make sure that cut on your head isn't too serious and to make sure you don't have a concussion alright? I'm going to shine a light in your eyes." She explicates, holding up a mini penlight to show him. Harry nods and the paramedic holds his eye lids up, individually, as she shines the light in his eyes to check his pupils for a reaction to the light. "They look really good." she smiles. "His head wound is only an abrasion. It scraped the epidermis and the dermis off, so it might take a bit longer to heal." She grabs her medical kit and pulls out a few items, among the items are scissors, medical tape, and gauze. "Hopefully you don't take any more spills like this. I think you aged your boyfriend-"

Harry is quick and eager to correct as JoAnne presses gauze to his head, "Fiancé."

"Well," JoAnne laughs quietly as she holds the bundled gauze against the wound on Harry's forehead, "I think you've aged your fiancé a few years." She completely ignores using the scissors and instead hands the roll of tape to Louis. "Please, rip a few pieces off for me. Thank you."

Louis rips off two long pieces and hands them to JoAnne, one at a time; she gratefully nods and secures the gauze down with them.

She turns to Louis. "It doesn't look like he has a concussion, but if he starts to throw up later on tonight or if he has another seizure I would highly recommend you bring him to an emergency room. Additionally, I would wrap that wrist of his up. It's starting to swell. Keep him from putting a large amount of pressure on it." JoAnne touches Louis's shoulder and smiles softly. "You did excellent. He's lucky to have you." She pats him on the back before she finds her way away from all the chaos continuing to ensue.

"Lou?" Harry whispers as his senses come back entirely. "Are we at the airport?" He asks and Louis nods. "Are those fans screaming?"

Louis doesn't say anything, simply looks away from him and swallows. "Oh god," his eyes drop onto his crotch which is soused with fresh urine and only makes him feel worse. Harry takes in a shaky breath, "Oh god. I'm so sorry."

"Stop apologizing. Please? This is far from your fault. It's okay." Louis promises, tugging Harry even closer.

Alberto comes back and squats down in front of them. "How are you feeling H?" he asks.

"I’ve been better." Harry mumbles wearily.

Louis asks, "Did the fans see?"

"A lot of it, yes. We tried to stop them from videotaping, but," he sighs. "Let's just get you two out of the center of attention and into the car. We'll worry about this later. Right now, Harry needs rest and so do you." Alberto expresses and Louis automatically concurs.

The two of them help Harry to his feet.

"Alberto do they know? About us?"

Alberto shakes his head. "I don't know. I have no way of knowing."

As they assist Harry to the car, all of the fans scream out different things to them which only makes Harry cower and attempt to bury his face against Louis's neck.

Louis wants to make all this pain slip away, more than anything. He wants the physical exhaustion, emotional derangement, and spiritual alienation to go away. He wants to take the epilepsy away from Harry. He wants to quit living in fear. He wants to be as bold and as flamboyant as he so pleases without someone telling him to "act straight". He wants to simply kiss his boyfriend in public without having severe consequences that will follow.

He may not be able to cure Harry's epilepsy, but he realizes he's found his ticket out of the closet, the solution to nearly all of his problems, and he's going to cherish every moment of it, with Harry right by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lairport 2k15.  
> Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFnIBBVWbMw


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](http://s1060.photobucket.com/user/emilyyludwa/media/tumblr_inline_nh9gzxb5M71t052v7_zpsnk45gjww.gif.html)   
> 

"Why are you so angry?" Harry asks, his expression exposing his internal oppression and confusion. His nose is scrunched upwards in scrutiny; his eyebrows are furrowed together, as his eyes wordlessly question his fiancé's current appearance for a simple answer to his naïve question.

Louis is clearly infuriated with him.

The shorter lad halts in the middle of his persistent pacing, his hands clench into tight fists at his sides. "Why am I angry?" Louis reiterates Harry's ridiculous question, disbelief laced in his raucous tone. He trudges towards Harry, forcing Harry to feel obligated to take two steps back.

Harry's backside smacks into the footboard of the risen bed and he swallows, "Yeah," his tongue flicks over his bottom lip. "Why are you angry with me?"

He knows Louis isn't going to do anything other than yell at him, Louis would never lay an unloving hand on him, but it doesn't change the nausea he feels in the pit of his stomach.

He despises confrontation, especially confrontation coming from his angry lover.

Louis glowers up Harry, his tone emotionless as he speaks, "Take a guess."

"Lou."

"No, no. Don't _Lou_ me. Don't you make me out to be the bad guy. You're leaving."

Harry can't help the scoff that falls out of his lips, "I am not leaving."

"Yes you are. You're leaving for L.A. in the morning, Harry, and you decided not to tell me until now. I wouldn't have been angry had you told me a few weeks ago." Louis's eyes are a shadowy grey color, representing the distress he's carrying, a very different look in comparison to his typically vibrant blue irises.

Harry is brisk to argue, "I didn't know until this morning myself."

"Sure." Louis shakes his head in dismay. "Why bother lying to me now?"

"Louis, I'm not lying. Mr. Griffiths told me I need to visit L.A. for at least a portion of the break, to gain more publicity and validation or something; I don't remember exactly, it was too early."

"Bullshit."

Louis glares at Harry, disloyalty and frustration are evident in his expression. He can't believe it's come down to Harry lying to him. If he wanted to visit L.A. he should have planned it with Louis earlier, it would not have been a problem.

Call Louis greedy, but he had actually wanted to spend time with his fiancé over the short break coming up as he had discussed with Harry a month ago. They've been worked like dogs recently and he isn't precisely allowed to interact with Harry often. Louis had wanted them to have a few days together with no pestering PR team members, no coddling families, and no overbearing bandmates.

"Lou-"

Louis cuts Harry off as he attempts to explain himself, "Listen all you had to say was you didn't want to spend time with me instead of fucking lying to my face for the past three weeks."

"Maybe they'll allow you to come with me. We could stay in the house together. We'd still have a nice time and we'd be together. Sounds ideal, if you ask me." Harry offers, genuinely hopeful that Louis will get over the miscommunication and come along with him.

"You're seriously going to continue to pin this on management? What do you plan on doing in Los Angeles, Harry? More songwriting? Or even better, maybe you'll shift completely and become an actor, considering all the stories I've been hearing about you. Are you going to give media outlets a bigger reason to misinterpret your actions and make up rumors about you?"

Louis crosses his arms over his chest, impatient, as he stares daggers at Harry. He plainly wants an answer. He won't leave any of this be until he receives an answer, preferably the answer he wants.

"They want us to lay low for a while."

Louis scoffs in disbelief; he steps away from Harry, and runs his small hand through his disheveled hair. " _Us?_ As in you and I?"

"Yeah. You know Irving is strictly working with Modest! to figure out the best way for us to come out. They can't have you and I looking the part before we tell everyone, it could make the backlash even worse when we do."

"So, let me get this straight, you're in agreement with Modest? The shitheads that have misused and abused us, especially you, for the past four and a half years are now your _pals_?"

Louis moves away from Harry entirely. He begins to pace again, ranting under his breath, completely in curse words.

"We're not pals." Harry shakes his head, eyes narrowing in on Louis because where did Louis possibly get that from? "I'm doing as they ask. We have two more months with them, I feel obligated."

Louis laughs in total disbelief. "You feel obligated? They've done shit for us Harry! They've closeted us. They've forced heterosexuality on us in the hopes that we would become straight. They forced me to have a girlfriend while I was with you. They've ignored your health problems. You nearly died on account of them. Need I go on?" He whips around, his head followed by his body. The look that crosses his face has Harry wishing he hadn't said anything at all. "Answer me Harry."

The only reply Harry think of is, "I did not nearly die. Calm down before you get hotel staff up here, would you? The last thing we need is a unplanned outing."

"That's all you have to say?" Louis freezes in his steps. " _I did not nearly die?_   You were in a snowmobile accident!"

"Yeah and I busted my chin open," Harry groans. He takes a seat on the bed. "A busted chin and embarrassment are not the same as dying. It was over two years ago, let it go."

"How am I supposed to let it go? I could have lost you. If I would have lost you...I don't know what I would have done."

"But you didn't."

"That isn't the point Harry! You do whatever they tell you to do. You weren't well enough to go on a skiing trip with Taylor, I told you not to go, but yet you still went didn't you? Tell me Harry what happened?" 

"Louis. Stop." Harry looks down, his jaw contracts, and he swallows harshly. He's trying to keep himself composed. Louis is trying to get under his skin. He does that when he thinks he's right. 

Jay, his mum, is a wonderful woman, but she never taught Louis the mannerisms Anne taught Harry. Harry was always taught to allow all opinions to be heard and to always respect the other person's ideas as opposed to Louis' constant need to be right. He's a marvelous person, don't get him wrong, but Louis doesn't know when to stop. He forgets that others have boundaries and that some people are more sensitive than him. 

He's usually able to make up for being rude. Given the situation, Harry doesn't always blame him for getting so angry and overwhelmed over the little things, but that doesn't always make it okay. Though, typically Louis says harsh things out of love.

Everything Louis says is usually because he thinks he's doing the greater good and protecting Harry, which, again, isn't always the case.

He's a good person, truly, he is. He means well, but sometimes he doesn't go about it in the best way. He has a short fuse and Harry tries his best to understand. 

"What happened on your ski trip Harry? What did Taylor Swift witness? What does 'twenty stitches in the hospital room' mean?"

Harry sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, "You think you're right. This has nothing to do with anything. Let it go."

"Oh no, no. I _know_ I'm right. What happened in Utah Harry?"

Harry finally looks up at him. Fine, he'll give him the damn answer he wants, just so he'll keep his mouth shut, hopefully. "I had a seizure on the snowmobile and I crashed it, are you happy? Does it make you happy to hear me talk about it?"

"No. But I think I made my point clear. You will do anything to keep those corporate monsters happy, even if it means making your health a second priority and now you're on their side! Why? You let them take advantage of you! Of us! I am so sick of it."

"Louis, please, I know but you don't need to get so worked up. I'm trying to make things easier on us sunshine." Harry steps forward and raises his hand to offer some sort of comfort for Louis, but Louis slaps his hand away.

"Don't you try to make this okay now Harry. It's too late. You've been lying to me! I thought you and I were in this together."

Harry swallows, "Louis all of this was decided this morning, I promise you that."

"If it was decided this morning then why wasn't I called in? You told me you were going for coffee this morning. When did a bloody cup of coffee turn into a corporate meeting? I think I deserve the truth and, even more so, an opinion regarding where my fiancé and I will be spending our hard-earned break."

Harry doesn't reply at first, he remains silent and drops his head to lock eyes with an unidentified stain on the carpet.

" _Well?_ I'm not getting any younger." Louis snaps, growing more and more belligerent as this conversation develops.

"I'm more rational than you, I guess. They didn't want to speak with you because, well..."

"Because I have a fucking backbone and I'm above allowing them to degrade me?"

That's a slap in the face. Harry's eyes shift in emotion, from somewhat confident to woeful in a matter of seconds. "I'm always the one to defend you! You never defend me! Did you tell them today that my opinion on the subject matters?"

They hardly ever argue and when they do it's over earnest topics like this. Harry doesn't like arguing with Louis, because he begins to come to the worse conclusions he can possibly imagine. He hates when Louis is angry.

The last time they got into an argument it was about Harry's medication. Something along the lines of – Harry hadn't told anyone he needed a refill on his prescription which resulted in a tonic clonic seizure. It had scared Louis, coming out of nowhere since there had been months of no seizure activity.

One thing Harry has learned over the past four and a half years is scared Louis is practically as bad, if not worse, as angry Louis.

They didn't speak for days after that fight; Harry can only imagine how this fight will end up.

"No. Of course you didn't. You never think of anyone but yourself. You're selfish. You didn’t even fight for me! I'm done talking about this. I hope you have a fantastic time in L.A. I won't be joining you." With that Louis walks towards the hotel room door and slams it behind him after he exits.

Harry doesn't know what he was expecting. He knew this wasn't going to end well, but now he doesn't know how to fix the situation.

The next few hours leading up to the concert are horrible. Louis won't do as much as look at him. It's starting to mess with his train of thought. He doesn't know how to fix any of it. He's positive an apology won't be enough at this point.

During dinner Louis had simply gathered his food and Zayn and advanced to the other side of their backstage makeshift diner, leaving him with Liam and Niall. Of course he doesn't mind Liam or Niall, considering they're in a band together, but he'd understandably prefer to have dinner with his partner. Though, throughout the separated dinner he didn't miss the sly looks Louis was sending his direction as he ate.

Backstage, minutes before the show was to start, Louis gave Harry the cold shoulder, ignoring his lamely assembled jokes and comments. Harry acted like it hadn't hurt. He was still questioning his motives for healing the situation, seeing he still didn't have an idea for fixing it. He asked Niall, but Niall had given him the terrible suggestion of letting it blow over.

And that would be why Niall doesn't have a girlfriend.

Now, they're on stage and Harry is used to being ignored and ignoring Louis because that's what they're simply authorized to do, but there's a tension in the air tonight that doesn't usually make an appearance.

The fight could have been a lot worse. They could have broken up, but it's still hard to deal with. Harry doesn't like the feeling he gets when he knows he has disappointed Louis. The fight was stupid, not worth it at all, Harry genuinely hadn't lied, but he possibly could have taken a different tactic. Louis's stressed, they all are, and perhaps he could have told him in a different way or taken a unique approach or even stood up against management in honor of his boisterous fiancé.

It's nearly halfway through the performance  that night when Harry unexpectedly feels overheated, which would normally be considered usual, bearing in mind they're playing outside in Dubai and he's been jumping around and showcasing his wicked dance moves for an hour, but he feels fevered internally.

He ceases for a second, halts in his outrageous dancing and his interactions with the fans, as he brings a wary hand to his forehead, drawing in a hefty inhale.

Liam comes over to check on him, concern etched onto his square features, as he places a hand on Harry's shoulder and constricts gently. Pulling the microphone away from his mouth and leaning in close to Harry's ear, he asks, "You alright?"

"No," Harry whispers and he begins to rub his forehead back and forth with his fist. His forehead has a red impression on it from rubbing roughly. His head hurts. Everything such as sounds and lights, are amplified ten times more and it all fees surreal. "No." The second time he says the word it proves to be more promising; the simple word comes out clearer, allowing Liam to detect his distress.

Liam moves his arm to wrap around Harry's shoulders. He tugs Harry into his side, in a brotherly, protective way. "Let's go backstage for a few minutes."

Harry doesn't protest and Liam begins to lead him backstage. Harry can only imagine the pictures and stories that are going to circulate from this and the scolding they're bound to get from management for ditching a concert midway.

He's dependent on Liam right now, leaning the majority of his weight into the slightly older man. Liam doesn't appear to mind, but even if he did Liam would be the last person to say anything. He's too caring to insult someone when they're obviously suffering.

Harry locks eyes with Louis and he doesn't miss the look of concern Louis shoots towards him as Liam leads him off stage. Harry isn't given a chance to say something in order to soothe him.

As they're walking Liam suggests, "It's hot out there, maybe you need to take a breather and relax for a second."

They gradually arrive backstage, specifically the green room closest to the entrance of the stage; no one is present besides the two of them, everyone else is most likely in the opposing green room or the technical room.

He didn't know it was possible to feel even worse than he had been feeling until he comes to a complete standstill. He shuts his eyes, draws in a yet another deep breath, and presses a hand to the wall to fortify himself, without it he might as well collapse to the floor.

Harry knows what’s impending, it’s only a matter time, and he'd rather it be backstage than in front of tens of thousands of fans.

He decides to conclusively elaborate to Liam, "Liam, I really don't feel well."

"What's wrong?"

Harry isn't able to verbalize the tingling sensation he feels all throughout his body or the otherwise indescribable unattached feeling. He comprehends he's living in real life, but it doesn't feel authentic, nothing is making sense. He doesn't apprehend where he is or what exactly real life includes and excludes.

He looks towards Liam for guidance. "Liam. Liam, where are we?"

Harry's head is indefinitely pounding. He can virtually feel his brain slamming against his skull. He raises one hand to his head and pushes his palm into his temple. Liam’s talking directly to him, endeavoring to coax him into calming down, but he can't discern him. He moves his other hand off of the wall and presses his palm into his remaining temple.

"Harry, we're in Dubai, remember? At a stadium. Come here. I think you ought to lie down." Liam's tone is gentle and guiding. He's attempting to be the comforting piece to Harry's puzzle. His hands latch onto Harry's forearms. "Let's sit down H. You'll start to feel better once you relax."

He begins to squat down, pulling Harry down towards the floor with him. Harry easily moves with him. "Harry, do I need to get Lou?" Liam asks as he helps Harry settle onto the floor of the green room.

It's a shame a monstrous thing has to transpire in such a tranquil place. The boys all have great recollections whether they involve pre-show anxiety or mischievous schemes, they're all positivity predicated.

Harry huffs, his breath heavy and his voice impotent, "No. Lou’s mad at me."

Liam's face contorts into distress as he listens to Harry. "I think I need to get Louis. Are you going to have a seizure?" He asks.

"Head hurts. Really bad." Harry whispers, wincing at his own raw voice.

He commences to curl in on himself, drawing his knees to his chest, his fingers dig into his temples, nails going white with the pressure, and he pulls in an expeditious, hitching breath.

Liam swallows astringently. He can't do anything to stop this. There's nothing he can do to rejuvenate or fix Harry in any shape or form.

An incipient voice instantaneously comes into the conversation, gruff and unforgiving, "Liam, Harry, what the hell are you two doing back here? Get out there."

"Can you get someone to go out and get Louis? Harry's about to have a seizure. I need Louis and _only_ Louis in here. Tell everyone else to back off."

"What?" The geriatric man asks, dumbfounded, he's stood by the door, pushing his glasses further up on the bridge of his nose as he examines the two boys in a conspicuous perplexity.

"Piers! Go get Louis. Harry's having a seizure." Liam's reiterates, his voice is rough, he's no longer playing the role of Mr. Nice Guy.

Piers crisply exits the room, shutting the door abaft him, without a single vocalization towards Liam. He does as requested by Liam. There's a certain tone in Liam's voice, one filled to the brim with annoyance. It sounds vastly different from his mundane soft-spoken voice.

Piers approaches the green room on the opposing side of the stadium, though nothing is awfully spread apart, therefore it's a quick walk.

He finds all he has to do is step inside the large room, announce that someone needs to get Louis, or Mr. Tomlinson as he formally demands, backstage immediately, and a commotion ensues. Many voices overlap each other as they decide who shall be the one to pull Louis backstage.

"Wait," Caroline, otherwise known One Direction's wardrobe lord and savior, puts her hand up, as if her gesture is going to cause the chaos to come to a halt, and turns to Piers. "They're mid-concert. Liam and Harry already left stage. Is something wrong?"

"Mr. Payne requested Mr. Tomlinson come backstage immediately."

Caroline scoffs, hands moving to reside on her hips, "And when did you start taking orders from _Mr. Payne_?" She mocks.

"In the event that Mr. Styles is having a seizure."

"Oh my god," Caroline whispers. "Where are they?"

"He told me not to allow anyone to assist, aside from Mr. Tomlinson. So, if you would, please go get Mr. Tomlinson."

Caroline doesn't allow hesitation to take over her any longer. She doesn't quite understand why Piers didn't walk to the tech room and have one of the members of the technical crew phone someone from security, but now it's far too late to make anymore decisions.

To say she runs to get behind the stage is by far an understatement, she darts down the hall at the speed of light, until she perceives one of the guards standing near the entrance to the stage. There's quite literally security all around.

"Peter! Peter!" she attempts to draw in a deep breath. "Go get Louis."

"Caroline? What's the matter?"

"Harry's having a seizure, please, go get Louis. And quickly."

There's only two ways on and off of the stage. One being the elevator the boys use to arrive and exit the stage, as the boys have to have a exhilarating way of showing up and disappearing, and the other being simply walking out onto the illuminated surface. The second method is used as easy access in case of emergency, like the sort of emergency that's happening at this point in time.

Peter disappears from Caroline's sight in milliseconds. Instantly, he's out on stage, incognito, that is until a hand full of fans near the stage notice him and shout confused chants at him.

Niall notices him first, "Hey! Peter! What brings you up here?" He shouts into the microphone. Either he's clueless that something is wrong or he's a phenomenal actor and doesn't want to worry the fans. Though, anyone who knows Niall knows that he's more naïve than anything, so the first option is more probable.

His shout forces Zayn and Louis's one-sided banter, alas most of the digs come from Louis's end, to come to an end. Louis looks away from Zayn, instead looking past him and instantly he can see the resent in Peter's expression, and his smile crumbles on the spot.  

Zayn peers over his shoulder and then back at Louis, his expression holds sympathy, "You need to find out what's wrong bro."

Louis doesn't reply, it's almost as though he's lost his ability to speak. He can feel the anxiety and anguish fill the pit of his stomach, again.

Suddenly, he's shoving his mic into Zayn's grasp and bumping shoulders with him as he dashes over to Peter. "What's going on? Is it Harry?" He asks, panicked.

"Yes. He's having a seizure. By the sounds of it, I would say it's rather severe."

"Shit!" Louis hisses. "Severe? Just how bad is it? Is he alright? Oh god.."

"I don't know Louis. Liam won't allow anyone back there."

"Bloody idiot! He doesn't know the first thing about epilepsy, let alone seizures! He should've gotten a medic." Louis runs his hand through his hair. "I need to go to him. He must be so scared. Fuck."

Louis vanishes from stage. Harry needs him. His baby needs him.

Meanwhile, Liam touches Harry's cheek, gently forcing Harry’s head up to get a good look at him. Harry knows Liam doesn't know how to handle a seizure without Louis's presence.

"Come on Louis. Hurry up." Liam whispers to himself and he meets Harry's eyes. His hand pushes on Harry's chest, inspiriting him to lay back. "Let's get you lying down." Harry lets out a noise of agitation, but goes, letting Liam guide him down.

Liam slips a hand under Harry's back and gradually assists him in lying back on the carpeted ground. "I'm sorry." Harry manages, his voice cracks, and his eyes well up with astronomically immense tears threatening to leak out of the corners.

"Don't sweat it. Everything's going to be okay. I think Lou should be back here any second," Liam smiles and Harry can recognize the falter in the reassurance Liam's offering. "Keep breathing. Nice deep breaths like Lou always says, yeah? Relax. Try to breathe through it."

Harry's eyes clench and a whimper eludes his lips as a sharp pain shoots through his head.

"Move! Get the fuck out of my way! Are they behind that door?"

Liam's head snaps up at the clear representation of Louis's voice and Harry attempts to hoist his head up, but he very literally cannot. He feels lethargic as though he can't move anything, indicating the worst is about to come.

Small tremors commence to run through his hands as they repose on top of his chest.

The door is jerked open, Louis appears in the doorway, and subsequently the door is slammed shut. "Oh baby," are the immediate first words that leave Louis's lips.

"Thank god Lou." Liam whispers in relief as he watches the older brunette come closer.

Louis drops down to his knees and takes Harry's face in his hands. His breath comes out in short wheezes. He's played plenty of football, but he's never moved with such momentum in a short period of time. "All right love?"

All Harry can manage is a soft whisper, "My head."

A watery, understanding smile appears across Louis's thin lips. "I know love." He presses his lips to Harry's forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too," Harry inhales sharply. "Lou? Louis?" Harry squeezes his eyes shut, tears leak from the corners, as he chokes on Louis's name.

"What is it Haz? It's okay. Shh. You're okay."

"I'm - ah, I'm sorry."

Liam watches the two of them in silence, sitting back on his heels as he prepares for further instruction from Louis.

"For earlier?" Louis arches an eyebrow. "Shut up, you fool. I say that with love. What transpired earlier isn't important anymore."

Louis rubs gentle circles against Harry's flushed cheeks. Harry's eyes start to unfocus for longer periods of time, exhibiting his conspicuous fight with himself. "Do me a favor darling?"

"Anything." Harry croaks out.

Louis swallows, coercing his Adam's apple to bob up and down, "Don't fight against it. Let it take its course. It's going to be okay. I'm right here. I'll always be right here."

"I love you boo,” Harry whispers and eyes shift to fixate on Liam. "Thank you Liam."

"Anytime Harry."

Harry's very still, every muscle carefully restrained, as if he can stop the seizure coming if he strives enough. That's far from the case, unfortunately.

There's an uncomfortable silence that fills the atmosphere between the three of them. "Can I see your jacket?" Louis asks, holding his hand out to Liam patiently.

Liam nods. "Of course Lou." He shrugs off his leather jacket and hands it to Louis. Louis bundles the jacket and pillows it under Harry's head.

Harry makes a little noise of distress, one hand flying up to clamp around Louis's wrist. Louis pulls his arm back, slipping through Harry's grasp so that he can take his hand instead, slotting their thumbs together. "Relax. I've got you. I'm right here I'm not going anywhere Haz." Louis whispers. He constricts Harry's hand in reassurance.

Both Louis and Liam soon realize Harry's past speaking; he locks eyes with Louis as if asking for more assurance. "It's okay." Louis whispers. "I'm not going to leave you." Harry's muscles allow him a bit more time as he constricts and releases Louis's hand in aberrantly timed intervals.

Harry's lips are scarcely parted as he draws in and exhales each unnerving breath. He appears nervous as well as child-like.

Louis knows what's imminent. He glances at Liam and it's obvious from Liam's facials that he knows as well.

Harry's grip loosens on Louis's hand and Louis has no choice but to let go of him. He shifts back to rest on his heels, much like Liam, as he waits for the seizing to commence. Except for the fact Liam looks terrified out of his mind, he’s horrid in these situations, but he has good bedside manner, he’ll be an extra comfort to Harry.

It begins several seconds later. At first Harry's incredibly taut and unmoving, virtually like his body is registering the spasming about to ensue. The spasming starts with twitching in the tips of his fingers, soon intensifying like a horrific highway contingency. Before long the tremors in his fingers spread to whole-frame convulsion. His arms stretch out in front of him and his wrists unnaturally curve in on themselves as he seizes.

"Liam keep an eye on the time," Louis authorizes to which Liam nods in replication. He moves his hand to rub a spot on Harry's chest, up and down, in a rhythmic motion. "It's okay. Shhh. It's okay love. Just a bit and you're going to be alright." Louis whispers.

"I know it's not important right now but -"

Louis cuts off Liam mid-sentence, “Zayn and Niall were stalling when I left. I'm sure as hell not going back out. There's no way Harry will be able to." He utilizes his sleeve to clear Harry's mouth from saliva in swift swipes. "It's okay baby, come back to me," He whispers. His hand that was rubbing circles against Harry's chest has moved to his cheek, gently grazing the flushed, sweaty skin. "You're doing good. It's okay darling. A little longer." He peers up at Liam. "How much time?"

Liam is brisk to reply, "It's been about a minute."

“Okay,” Louis draws in a deep breath. “Was he off earlier today Liam? I don’t know if he was or not.”

Harry’s moving in ways no one should ever have to witness, his neck arches upwards as he shakes against the floor. Louis continues to keep physical contact with Harry because he doesn’t know what Harry can feel and what Harry can’t feel when he’s having a seizure. “Come on love,” he encourages. “It’s okay. Shh. I need you to come back to me darling. Everything is okay. Come on.”

Harry’s moved his way onto his back from seizing as violently as he does and Louis hesitates in readjusting him back onto his side. “I don’t think so. I didn’t notice anything was wrong until about half way through the concert anyways.” Liam replies honestly as he looks between Harry and Louis.

Louis sighs, as his hand that isn’t grazing Harry’s cheek mops the access saliva up. Harry’s trembling against his touch and he continues to act as though it doesn’t bother him because if he isn’t the strong one than no one will be. He has to tell himself to stop psyching himself out because he knows what he’s doing; he’s done this time after time before. All he needs to do is ride it out with Harry. “I shouldn’t have been such a dick to him.” He watches Harry closely and shakily sighs at the sight.  “Come out of it darling. It’s alright.” Louis turns his face, shuts his eyes tightly, and whispers a quiet made up prayer to himself. This is rough.

It’s never easy to see Harry such condition, but he truly loves him and he needs to push past it. It’s even worse when the two of them are on negative terms because Louis displays signs of guilt for days to come.

Life would be easier if Harry only had absence seizures or partial seizures, rather than full out tonic clonic ones.

“Don’t blame yourself Louis. You’ve said it yourself; no one can help the fact that he has epilepsy. This isn’t anyone’s fault. Don’t get down on yourself.”

“I guess.”

“No, that’s the truth. You’re doing the best you can and your best is damn good. This isn’t your fault. You take great care of him. There’s nothing for you to hate on yourself for.”

Louis nods in acknowledgment. "It is what it is. I appreciate it Liam." he sighs and his hand gradually shifts from Harry’s cheek to his forehead in order to push stray hair out of his face.

The seizing declines gradually, not entirely, but gradually until Harry’s left with small tremors and jolts. "I love you Harry. I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here." he whispers.

Harry's muscles unclench entirely after proximately thirty more seconds. The spastic rhythm of his limbs has terminated. Louis grabs his shoulders and maneuvers Harry to repose back on his side. "I'll give you an even better pillow. You don't want Liam's lame bad boy jacket anymore." Louis expresses winsomely and Liam laughs softly.

He hauls Harry's head onto his lap, carding his fingers through the long, curly mane that Harry calls his hair. Harry's eyes remain unfocused as he lays lax on Louis's lap. His breathing is loud and coerced as he continues to engender an immense quantity of saliva, the thick liquid slides past his lips. Louis perpetuates to utilize the sleeve of his baseball t-shirt to wipe Harry's lips. "Wasn't too bad was it babe? We had a bit of a warning, means you won't be as sore in the morning, hopefully."

Harry is customarily exhausted for days after seizures, sometimes he can't even move the following few days. Louis doesn't mind cuddling with him for those few days though. They're time well spent, cuddled up underneath the covers with overprized romantic comedies playing in the background. They never pay much attention though. Their lips are always interlocked and hands are being slipped down the others boxers.

Louis generally pities Harry after his seizures, resulting in a plethora of mouth on cock action in accolade of Harry. Harry will never repine about having his dick sucked when he's sore and incapable of pleasuring himself.

Liam clears his throat, "He's lucky to have you."

"Shut up Liam. You'd do the same for Sophia. It's no different. Besides, I'm even luckier to have him." Louis smiles softly, tucking Harry's hair behind his ears, and lightly running his fingers over Harry's scalp. His other hand rubs circles against Harry's back.

"I know, I know, but the two of you are different than Soph and I," Liam points out. "All the shit you two have been through and your compassion for him never changes. I don't know how you do it Tommo."

"I'm in love with him. Like I said Payno, you'd do the same for Sophia. Don't make me out to be a bloody hero when I'm doing nothing special."

Harry makes a noise, then, groans, shifting on Louis's lap. Louis turns his entire focus back to Harry and he straightens up a little.

"Harry, Haz. Are you with me? Baby? I'm right here."

Harry turns his head upwards, eyes locking with Louis's as he studies the older boy. He's quiet, except for the shuddered, ragged noise he produces every time he breathes.

"Take it easy for me," Louis whispers, touching Harry's cheek with nimble fingers. "Hi Harry." He smiles when he sees recognition cross Harry's face, especially his bright green eyes. "Do you remember me? Baby, what's my name? Say my name."

Harry doesn't express anything for several seconds. His eyes narrow as he perpetuates to study Louis's face. Then, he does, ghosting the word _Louis_ out with every breath he takes. He repeats it until it comes out vigorous and confident, "Louis."

"Good," Louis kisses his forehead. "Welcome back. Sit tight for me. Relax. I'm not leaving you."

Louis catches Liam examining him out of the corner of his eyes. He raises an eyebrow and Liam glances at him as if asking if he can talk to Harry. Louis understands and nods in approval.

"Harry. Hey mate." Liam says softly and Harry's eyes lethargically move over to fixate on Liam. An impuissant smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

Harry greets, "Liam."

"Get some rest Harry. We have all the time in the world." Harry reaches for Louis hand and he squeezes tightly once he laces their fingers.

"I love you Lou."

"I love you too, so much."

Louis will be damned if Harry goes to L.A. in the morning. This boy is his and he isn't going to let him out of his care especially in his current situation. Harry won't be able to walk around in the morning let alone board a plane and ward off hundreds of fans and ferocious paps.

He looks down at Harry once more. His hand is intertwined with Harry's and tucked close against the younger lad’s chest as if he were a child holding his favorite stuffed animal. Harry's eyelids flutter shut and he becomes lax against Louis.

Louis can't help but smile at his beautiful boy. This boy is truly his forever and always, proving that there always is light to be found in the dark of the night. He’s never been so infatuated with before.  He would do anything for his baby.

And it proves to be true, no matter what time it is or where he's to be located or even the circumstances, Louis will always come running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dubai 2k15.  
> Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFnIBBVWbMw


	4. Chapter 4

Louis takes only a few steps into the five class restaurant and instantly he's engulfed into the quiet atmosphere.

This particular restaurant was a recommendation from Harry. Apparently, he had dined here once before with James Corden and his wife and he's been in _love_ ever since. There were details about a creamy pasta sauce and sparkling water that entailed - but to be honest, Louis hadn't really paid attention past the first two minutes of their conversation. 

Harry likes to talk, as everyone who knows him understands, and so Louis lets him ramble all he wants.  If ranting about little details makes Harry happy, it makes Louis happy too. 

The two of them are hosting their family dinner here tonight, plenty of time hasn't been allotted to socialize and spend time with their beloved family members.

Aside from their sisters, Gemma and Lottie, of course, as they did attend tour with them for a short while.

Louis takes a single glance around and he's greeted with sights of impeccably carved tables laced with white satin tablecloths, dark wooden chairs tucked into the sides of tables, gleaming plates and cutlery, and a sublime waitstaff dressed in polished shoes and crisp monotone uniforms.

He notices the floorboards look as though specs of food have never been dropped on them. Restaurants don't get much classier than this. Instantaneously, he's forgetting all of his mannerisms and formal etiquette.

He feels out of place - which is odd, considering his wealth, but he doesn't often embrace his fortune. 

God, they should have stuck to their typical, annual backyard summer barbecue at the Styles' residence, seeing as it's May and they're on a short, two-month break from tour, it would be no trouble at all and perhaps all of this would feel less rushed and less daunting.

And anyways, the Styles' residence is gorgeous. Lush greenery and a patio made of stones lead to an in ground pool and bonfire pit. The setting is not only gorgeous, but familiar. 

Louis does best with familiar. 

"Excuse me sir," a woman with a grimace and sharp features waves at him in an attempt to get his attention. He glances towards her and sighs to himself before walking towards her. "What are _you_ looking for?"

Louis huffs. "I'm here for dinner with my family."

The woman smiles impotently and narrows her vexed grey eyes at him. Perhaps, it's the fact that he's not dressed up to their apparel standards. The restaurant has a strict, formal dress code and he's in a pair of ebony jeans and an ashen colored tank top, an unbuttoned jean dress shirt sits over top of it.

He always sticks to his word and he _told_ Harry he wasn't wearing a suit.

"And exactly what party would that be?" The middle-aged woman asks, crudely, opening a small leather bound booklet and flipping through the pages until she reaches today's date.

There isn't a beat of hesitance. "The Tomlinson and Styles party."

The woman's facade falls as she recognizes him, and quickly apologizes, wide-eyed, "I am terribly sorry Mr. Tomlinson. I can -"

"Whatever. Just tell me where my family is, yeah? Point me in the right direction?"

The woman nods, stepping around the podium. She forces a fake laugh, "Silly me. Excuse my behavior before. Right this way sir. We have a private section for you and your family, as requested." Her smile is tight and apologetic.

He sighs. "No. Just - tell me where I'm going."

She begins to argue, but Louis puts a finger to his lips, gesturing for her to stop trying to prove herself to him. He doesn't care to know. "Tell me where I'm going.”

"Of course, of course. You're going to walk straight back. You'll see a burgundy door and it's right behind that. Have a splendid dinner sir."

He nods at her and walks away, without as much as vocalizing a thank you. As he walks through the sea of snooty, upper-class people, he realizes that he's rather fortunate, due to the fact they're all relatively older than he is. They're greying and brittle which often means they don't have a clue about One Direction or they do, but they're unlike fangirls and they don't know all five lads by their names or looks.

It isn't as though tonight's a secret because _god forbid_ he's seen with Harry. It's a secret because their families want to enjoy each other's presence in private without a chance of hordes of screaming teenagers interrupting their every sentence.

Harry and Louis have been allowed to interact with each other now. It would be a bit awkward if they continued to ignore each other after what happened in February. There's no way to deny a friendship, let alone a relationship, after the horrendous pictures and videos that appeared online. 

There had been a major failure in addressing what actually happened in February when Harry had his episode and Louis rushed to his aid as though his life depended on it. Though, it's fair to say his life does depend on reassuring Harry's safety and well-being.

The fans are now aware Harry has epilepsy. It had been brought to a front, but in a way that Louis would like to change.

Management had decided that a written statement on the band's Facebook would be enough to soothe the fans, but all the statement had expressed was Harry, indeed, does have epilepsy and as of then there would be no changes among the performance dates or the procedures that were customarily run.

Harry wasn't satisfied with that. He had wanted to do a video, filmed by himself, addressing his disorder and his struggles with it. Harry had wanted to emerge from the closet with Louis. Harry had wanted to make changes from that point, but he opted not to tell anything to anyone. He kept quiet, as he always does.

Louis, on the other hand, had issues biting his tongue on the subject. He's always been one to stand up for himself and his lover. He simply chewed management a new ass in the next conference meeting they had and it weakened their forces a bit, but not nearly enough to shift a portion of what had taken place.

Rather, they had made an extra effort to disunite Harry and Louis, which instead caused outrage among the One Direction fandom, because the fans had video after video of proof from the airport and yet they were still being told that Larry's relationship status was bullshit, any form of it, they were being told that even a friendship was bullshit. Louis and Harry were gradually being forced even farther into the so called “glass closet”.

But, the management shift that was supposed to take place in the beginning of April, around the fifth, hadn't transpired yet due to other obligations, and was pushed aside and supposedly more important priorities had risen. Now they were still waiting for the change to take place. It was coming soon and as soon as Azoff had gained access, a few specially chosen news outlets would be given pictures and the allowance to release information about the relationship of the newest gay power couple. Subsequently, it was decided that either a press conference or an interview involving only Louis and Harry would be taped and played to fans straight after articles broke the ice.

At this point in time Azoff has more power than Modest! and Azoff is using their power primarily for good, unlike Modest! ever did.

Louis and Harry's coming out has the power to break all forms of media, especially now with suspicions raised between outlets and fans, but only with Harry and Louis's perspective and true story being exposed. All anyone needs is the realistic confirmation.

The first few steps of initiating the coming out has already been taken care of.

One being, Louis's media image had broken it off with Eleanor within the duration of March. It was brought to a surface and it infuriated hundreds of thousands of fans. Louis was hesitant to let Eleanor go, they'd become rather good friends, between the three - no wait, four years they had been forced to spend with one another. They mutually decided after the breakup that they would most likely never speak again. They didn't want to be linked to one another any longer.

Two being, articles claiming that after the break up Louis sought comfort in solely Harry which allowed for people to believe that their relationship was as alive as ever, even though Modest! had been attempting to cover that up with denials and separation.

Everything is gradually intertwining and coming to a front. They're unstoppable now.

Louis finds his way to the back of the restaurant and he straightens out his shirt before he places his hand on the doorknob. He feels an odd need to look presentable for Harry's family, his own family already knows he's a slob, but he likes impressing the Styles family.

He wrenches open the door and everyone's' head turns upwards to glance at the door and then at him. Immediately, Louis feels the warmth of the room. He looks at everyone; Anne, Gemma, Robin, his mum, Dan, Fizzy, and Lottie all gathered together at a long wooden table, bright smiles on their faces. He notes the two empty seats beside each other that are quite obviously reserved for Harry and himself.

Gemma stands up from her seat towards the end of the table, to the side of Lottie and across from his step-father, Dan, and she comes over to greet him.

She doesn't vocally express anything at first, instead engulfs him in a massive hug. "It's been so long!"

He feels at home. The feeling is nearly indescribable.

He hugs her back, wrapping his arms around her thin frame tightly and longingly, "Far too long babes. Missed you."

She gradually pulls away until they're face to face once more. Louis leans in, clutches onto her shoulders, and pecks her on the cheek, "You look lovely tonight Gems." he compliments, giving her black collared dress and blonde up-do a once over.

The Styles are damn impressive; every single one of them has good genes.

"Please," she scoffs. "Look at _you_ ," She touches the jean button down he has on and rubs the rough material between the pads of her thumb and index finger. "I like this. Did Caroline dress you?" she teases.

He laughs. "Believe it or not, I have some fashion sense."

"Tosser. 2012 begs to differ."

Louis rolls his eyes at that. 2012 was a dark time in clothing and he'd rather not hear about those dreaded red pants and striped shirts ever again.

"You have to admit, I’ve got you there." She winks, bares a quick grin, and walks back over to her seat. 

Louis makes his way to the table. He greets Harry's mum and step-dad first, he'll have plenty of time to spend time with his family elsewhere, his time with Harry's family is limited right now.

He firmly shakes Robin's hand.

"Looking good. It's great to see you again son. I take it you've been well?"

"It’s always a pleasure Robin. I've been brilliant. I'm thrilled to be here." 

Robin nods in agreement, "As am I. I look forward to hearing about your break."

Louis steps around Robin's seat as he is seated beside Anne. Anne skips a verbal greeting and she stands up, embracing him in warm hug, wrapping her arms securely around Louis's torso. She doesn't speak at all as she holds him and Louis rubs small, gentle circles against her back. "Hi mum." he whispers. Out of all things he expects to hear, he doesn't expect a sob to fall out of her mouth.

"Lou." she cries and Louis glances towards his own mum for guidance. Jay simply shrugs, mouthing 'I don't know', and she gestures for him to continue to comfort her.

He turns his full attention back to Anne. "Is everything alright Anne? Something I should know?" Louis asks, softly. His heart begins to race, immediately thinking something bad has happened to Harry, and he can't deal with that. 

Before he has a chance to ask, Anne pulls away, rubbing underneath her eyes, in a simple attempt to get rid of the tear streaks and keep from ruining her makeup any more than it already is. "I haven't seen you in so long." She swallows. "It's good to see you. I'm being silly. I’ve gotten myself overwhelmed. I'm sorry."

Louis can't fight the smile that surfaces. Harry's family is very much his own and his family is very much Harry's.

They aren’t two separate families anymore. It isn't the Tomlinsons _and_ the Styles; rather they're the Tomlinson-Styles.

This startling reaction out of Anne makes him realize he's done something right. Anne loves him enough to cry when she sees him. "I've missed you too." He says in a soft tone of voice. "We have an awful lot of catching up to do tonight."

He's spoken with both Anne and Gemma outside of the band, but not like this, mostly text messaging and phone calls, except for when Gemma joined them on tour for that bit in Asia. Then he had full access to her. It's nice to be in the same room as them and see their reactions to things he says and to directly be in their presence.

"Indeed we do sweetheart, indeed we do." She settles back down into her chair. Robin places his hand on her knee, patting gently, and whispers something reassuring to her.

Louis greets Dan the same way he did Robin, with a simple handshake. He's fond of his step-father, but he's additionally learned to never put much faith into men who claim to be his father figure. He doesn't need to revisit the feeling of being fatherless for a third time.

He kisses his mum’s cheek and pulls her into a close cuddle, whispering, “I love you. You look lovely mum.”

“I love you too poppet.”

He glances towards his sisters and the three of them share the same relieved facial expression. He’s never been one to despise and fight consistently with his sisters. They’re a large, but tight-knit family. He hugs both of them for a long period of time.

After he accomplishes greeting everyone he's able to slip into a seat with an empty spot on one side of him and his sister Fizzy on the other. He frowns at the empty spot beside him.

He thought for sure Harry would be here by now, but then again traffic was rather horrid on his travel over.

Harry only arrived back in England roughly three days ago and he's been in the studio since then. Louis can't wait to see him. It's been nearly two and a half weeks since he last saw him.

Harry's been in L.A for a very long time. In fact, Harry's been in L.A. since the very beginning of the two month break, but Louis was with him in the first few weeks, back in April.

As was Liam for a short time until he ran off to go on vacation in Barbados with Sophia. He came back to England towards the end of April and he's been back since.

Niall, on the other hand, has been all around the world with a group of friends, he's been back in Australia, Europe, South America, and North America for the ending football season. He's taken quite a liking in the sport, especially recently, now that he and Louis have an ongoing bet about what team will win the FIFA World Cup in a week or so.

Although fans believe he is MIA as always, Zayn's gone on vacation with Perrie to Jamaica, out of all places. He doesn't swim, so Louis doesn't understand what he and Perrie will be doing...on a second thought, he doesn't want to know.

Louis's been spending way too much time with Stan and his old group of friends, Calvin and Oli, spending way too much time meaning there's been an abundance of drunk and stoned memories made within the last few weeks. He's missed feeling normal, as a twenty three year old should feel, and virtually this entire break has allowed him to feel like a normal young adult.

"Mum, I told you it was alright to bring the girls along," Louis suddenly says once he notices the nonexistent presence of his twin sisters, Phoebe and Daisy.

"I know you did poppet, but I felt this would be rather boring for them. I dropped them off at Nan's along with Ernest and Doris. It's a night off for everyone."

Louis doesn't agree. "Well, I'm sure Harry will be disappointed."

"We can find time for him to come over and babysit them." Jay suggests.

Lottie clears her throat and straightens up slightly. "Speaking of Harry, where is he?" She's blunt and demanding much like her older brother.

Fizzy is more reserved and relaxed, more like to Harry in that aspect, Louis supposes. "Is he coming soon?" she asks, peeking her head up.

Louis can hardly believe how old his sisters have gotten. He's been away for ages and it's absurd to believe Fizzy is nearly fifteen and Lottie will be seventeen in a matter of months. He misses being there every step of the way as they grow up. He often had the role of the male presence in their home growing up.

"I believe so." Anne replies as she glances towards Louis for assistance.

Louis brushes the feeling of uncertainty off, "Yeah. I mean - he was supposed to text me when he was on his way, but you all know how forgetful he is sometimes. He’ll be here soon.”

"Of course," Jay smiles impotently at her son and also peers over at Anne. "How _is_ Harry?"

It appears as though it's a simple question, but there's reason behind it. She isn't asking how is Harry as in how has he been, she's authentically asking how _is_ Harry, referencing his epilepsy. "Honestly, Louis knows more than I do. I haven't had a conversation with Harry about the matter in months."

Jay and Anne, as well as everyone else seated at the table turn their attention to Louis and somehow Louis feels moderately more bothered than he does when thousands of fans are screaming at him. "Um – well, he has an appointment with his epileptologist in a couple weeks, right before tour begins. I'll go with him, of course. His seizures have been a bit more frequent. His neurologist suggested switching his medication and so we did, but he's still having seizures more often than he should be, so I'm taking him to his specialist."

Jay asks, "Do they have any idea why that is?"

"Not really. He's getting an EEG done as well as an MRI. They said the epilepsy could be affecting another portion of his brain and if he isn't medicated for it then it's obviously going to affect him poorly." Louis swallows nervously and he reaches forward for his glass of ice water set to the side of his cutlery. He takes a large gulp of it and a calming breath before setting it back down on the tablecloth. Everyone's eyes stay on him as if authorizing him to continue. "But - uh, he hasn't had a seizure in a few weeks. I was resentful to leave him in Los Angeles by himself, but as far as I know he's been fine. The stress has been awful for everyone and he has a major sensitivity to it. I'm sure that's why he's been struggling a bit more."

Anne nods at him. "Thank you. He opts not to discuss it with me."

"With all due respect, he doesn't like to talk about it; I try my best to swerve away from talking about it. I have enough trouble trying to get him to talk with me about it when we need to. He's embarrassed and he has the right to be. It's a terrible disorder."

Gemma chips in. "I mean, he has a right to decide if he wants to talk about it. If I had it, I sure as hell wouldn't want my life to revolve around it."

Louis draws in a sharp breath. "You know - uh can we change the subject? Please? Thinking about it makes me feel sick to my stomach."

Robin agrees, "Good idea son. How about - hm, how are you feeling about getting back to tour?"

"Let's not make tonight about me. It's about us, as a family, so uh - someone else talk, yeah?"

No one objects, but no one expresses a single word. Louis looks between the entire group of them and he lets out a sigh, before a idea comes to mind, "Gemma. Have you found a job yet?" He asks, turning his head to the faux blonde, and laughs when he sees her face pale.

Harry's spoke about his brilliant sister for the longest time. Gemma is a genius, but she doesn't apply herself which would be why she is sitting around doing nothing with a genetics degree in her hands.

She scratches the back of her head, "Yeah - about that..."

Louis pulls his phone out of his back pocket and sets it down on the table. He clicks the home button, checking the time, and draws in yet another sharp inhale.

Twenty five after eight. They were supposed to all meet here at seven forty-five and Louis has never been one to be punctual, so undeniably he showed up fifteen minutes late, but what he doesn't understand is why Harry isn't already here.

Harry is _never_ late; in fact Harry is always at least ten minutes early for _everything_.

Louis has had to deal with his aggravating time antics for years now and Louis himself doesn't like to feel rushed, yet Harry is always rushing him and complaining about his tardiness.

Keeping that in mind, Harry should have been here at least fifty minutes ago considering his fear of being even remotely tardy.

Louis nervously bobs his knee up and down underneath the table and pauses once he comes to a new conclusion, "I'm going to go ring Harry. I'll step out for a moment."

Lottie also decides it's a fantastic idea to call Harry, nodding along and telling Louis in a joking tone, "Tell him to hurry along. I'm bloody famished."

There's an unspoken rule between both families that if not all of the guests have arrived then no one eats until that very last person arrives.

Apparently, it's okay to starve on the account of someone else's tardiness. Louis recalls how annoyed he would become when he was a hormonal teenager and his grandparents would take ages to show up for celebrations.

Louis nods at her, weakly smiling, and stands up. He walks out of the private dining room, taking his phone with him, and heads down to the bathrooms and chooses a stall to step foot into. He locks the door after himself, shuts the lid on the toilet, taking a seat on the porcelain top, and types his password in - 0201, ironically Harry birthday. His world is purely Harry-centric.

He scrolls to Harry's contact and taps call as he leans forward on the toilet, holding the phone to his ear. "Come on Harry," he whispers to himself after the first three rings pass.

Harry doesn't pick up and Louis can't possibly bring himself to take a deep breath and calm down. He leaves a shaky voicemail instead, "Hey Haz. It's Louis. Love, where are you? Why aren't you answering your phone? Everyone's here at dinner. We're waiting for you. You're starting to scare me. Give me a call and let me know where you're at. I'm not angry with you; I just want to know you're alright. I love you." He ends the call and reposes his phone, screen down, on top of his thigh.

He sighs quietly and runs his hand through his disheveled hair. His mind is automatically thinking of the worst case scenarios when in all honesty Harry probably fell asleep - his new medication makes him feel exhausted - or he's stuck in traffic with his phone turned off.

Harry turns his phone off in the car sometimes, so there's no room for distractions and all his focus is forced on the road. That's very likely why he's not answering his phone, but Louis is still unable to make the fear building up inside of him subside.

He makes the executive decision of calling Harry again and he decides if he doesn't answer, Louis will ignore it and give Harry a bit more time to show up. He clicks Harry's contact again and brings the phone back to his ear. "Come on Haz. Pick up, Harry pick up."

It's another failure. "Fuck." He stands up, slipping his phone into his back pocket, and he unlocks the stall.

He begins to make his way back to the dining room. This night isn't going as planned at all and he can't help but reminisce in that fact. He wanted tonight to be nice, but it's far from pleasant, for him at least.

When Harry comes, Louis is going to kiss him and then he's going to smack him upside that naive head of his for putting him through stress, _again_.

He jerks the damned burgundy door open and walks back into the private room and Anne is the first to turn and look at him, for answers. "I don't know. I called him twice and I left him a voicemail. I'm going to give him a few more minutes before I ring him again."

Anne nods and quietly sighs to herself. She looks across the dimly lighted room at the girls, "Next time the waitress comes around, we'll order."

Anne isn't even finished with her sentence when Fizzy, Lottie, and Gemma all whisper a satisfied, "Yes."

Louis rolls his eyes at them, not understanding how they're not stressed, and sits back down. "I hope he gets here soon. I'm beginning to worry."

Dan speaks up, smiling softly, "I'm sure he's fine, running late or something I’m willing to bet. You said it yourself, Harry's extremely forgetful."

 _Yeah about putting metal in the microwave, not about this sort of thing_ , Louis wants to say.

He glances at the seat beside him and once again sighs to himself. He shifts, his elbow now props his head up and he presses his chin into the palm of his hand. He won't be satisfied until he sees Harry in his presence with his own eyes.

Gemma shifts the conversation. "Lottie, did you decide what you're going to study after you finish your GCSE's?"

"I think cosmetology. Lou taught me some cool techniques, she let me practice a few of them on Lux. I really liked it."

Gemma smiles, "Wicked," She leans forward to look at Fizzy. "I know its early Fiz. But any idea about what you might like to go into?"

"I don't know. Perhaps something in the medical field."

Louis blocks the rest of _that_ irrelevant conversation out as he fixates his eyes on the closed door, waiting and praying for Harry to walk through.

He has a theory that if he stares at the door long enough Harry will come sauntering through with that stupid grin and that even stupider fake apology that's bound to follow.

Jay sighs quietly at her son, "Darling, I wouldn't stress about it."

"You don't get it. This isn't like Harry mum. He's never late. He would at least call me if he knew he was going to be late."

"I'm positive there is a perfectly good explanation for all of this. We're here to have good time, yes? You can't spend all night worrying about him. Like you and Dan said earlier, he's forgetful."

"What if -"

"Louis, sweetheart, please. Harry's okay. I promise. Calm down. You're going to make yourself sick stressing like this."

"Okay," he finally whispers. "Okay."

He withdraws his phone again and checks the time once more. Forty five after eight. "Bloody hell." He whispers to himself, rubbing his face with both hands. Jay looks at him with disapproval, but she chooses not to say anything more.

A waitress eventually comes around prepared to scribble down orders with a smile blatantly expressing her hatred for her job.

Louis can't bring himself to order anything for two reasons, one being he truly wants to eat dinner with his fiancé and two he isn't sure he can stomach food with the morbid thoughts circulating around his head.

"Aren't you hungry Lou?" Fizzy asks, frowning slightly.

He swallows, trying to make sense of his own thought process, but nevertheless he isn't able to. "Yeah, but not right now Fiz. I'll eat later on. Maybe."

"Um - okay."

He unlocks his phone for the sixth time in the last five minutes to ensure that he isn't going to miss any notifications that come through.

There's a brief silence that fills the room and no one speaks above a whisper for a short while.

And then suddenly conversation erupts.

Robin and Dan are in a debate involving the draft for football season, what players will be shifted into new teams and what candidates will be chosen to play.

Jay is in a deep conversation with Gemma. She asks Gemma about her time on tour in Asia and Gemma asks about both sets of the twins. She offers to babysit them and Jay smiles, telling her absolutely.

Anne speaks with both Lottie and Fizzy, inviting the two of them to spend some time with her over the summer to which they both delightfully agree.

Louis continues to sit in dreary silence. He needs _his_ Harry. Harry would definitely lift up his mood right now and he would make it easier to include the entire table into one large discussion. Harry is a splendid host.

Its nine o'clock when Harry finally comes staggering into the room and it would be a lie to say that Louis doesn't run to him and attach himself to him as though they have some immense magnetized pull to each other - which they kind of do.

He quite nearly knocks Harry over, the two of them would topple to the floor had it not been for Harry barely catching himself on the wall. Louis rambles as he holds Harry tightly, "You fucking idiot. Where have you been? Where the fuck have you been? You scared me half to death."

Instead of letting out a hardy laugh and kissing Louis until every inch of his face has been graced with his lips, he weakly whispers, words slurring together, "Lou. Lou, _please_ , stop."

Louis's eyebrows furrow in confusion and his lips form a tight line as pulls away from Harry. He glances up at him and instantly notices how pale Harry’s complexion is. He takes his face in his hands and pulls him forward. He can feel Harry trembling like a leaf stuck in a fierce wind against his palms.

Needless to say, he doesn’t quite understand.

As he forces Harry to move closer he can hear the persistent wheezing that comes from his throat and mouth with every exhale. He's struggling to catch his breath. "Harry what's wrong? Harry. Babe what happened? Take a deep breath for me. Talk to me."

Harry doesn't hesitate, shakily saying, as though he can’t think straight, "I was – I had the – a seizure in the – my car."

With that, Anne's out of her chair and rushing over to the two of them. She touches Harry's back and rubs circles. She visibly winces at his uneven breathing and glances towards Robin with an expression filled of fear. He shares a look of concern with both Gemma and Anne before eyeing Harry nervously.

Louis meets Harry's eyes, wide-eyed and nervous, "You had a seizure in your car? When? Love, tell me you didn't drive here after you had it," Louis's entire outward appearance changes as he becomes more protective of his lover. "Are you alright?"

"I - like, um god, hour ago, I was – ah –  been in the – Jesus fuck – parking lot. I – shit fuck - going to call you – I was, but couldn't remember – ah – password to phone." Harry stutters out in a blind panic.

He’s trying to not crowd Harry. He doesn’t want to throw Harry into a panic attack or something worse. He feels guilty enough not being there with him. He can only horrifically imagine how scared Harry must have been, having every one of his muscles tighten, not being able to breathe, waking up alone. 

He’s hopeful. He is. He’ll take Harry home and they can forget about all of this. 

“Shh, shh, shh. Take it easy. Calm down. I'm here now. It's going to be okay. I’ll take you home, yeah? I need you to relax first. You’re not doing any good for yourself right now. You're panicking when everything’s going to be just fine. Deep breaths, love.”

Louis cautiously watches Harry. His hands tighten around his shoulders, his fingertips dig into his flesh, turning white with pressure, and his eyes glaze over with fresh tears. He tries to remind himself that Harry’s okay now. He’s going to be just fine.

Of course. That's when he realizes he’s mistaken.

Harry’s eyes lethargically wander as though he’s unable to find focus - not even on Louis who is directly in front of him. 

Louis tries to gain his attention with an exasperated plea of his name, “Harry.” No response. He tries again, louder, fiercer, “Harry.” He tugs him closer, now fisting the collar of his jacket, “Come on Harry.” 

Suddenly, his jaw slackens. Harry can't keep his head up right. That’s when - to his horror, Louis realizes that he's falling into a second fit and Harry's legs give out from underneath him.

"Fuck!" is all Louis manages to shout before Harry stumbles into him. He's able to just get a grip beneath his arms before he can even remotely hit the floor.

Harry raises his head slightly to look up at Louis. He tries his hardest to find his footing, only to double over a second time, and cause Louis to almost lose his hold, but Louis manages to lift him up slightly, hoping to keep Harry from attempting to balance his weight. "Lou - I dun - no feel so good - I bad. Bad, bad, baaa." He slurs. There's spit and snot already beginning to slip between his lips and out of his nose, dripping down his chin, onto the carpet and Louis's shirt. Louis doesn't even feel disgusted, this situation is already terrible, and it's not like Harry can help it. 

He can't get angry with Harry when he knows he can't physically stand up, let alone close his fucking mouth. He can't feel his damn facial muscles.

"I know Harry, I know. Oh _fuck._ " He groans through clenched teeth. He can't keep Harry up right for much longer.

He glances at Anne for instruction and Anne swallows, hand placed on the back of Harry's neck. "Come sit down baby." she whispers as though Harry understands. Perhaps she doesn't realize how far the seizure has progressed in the last few minutes. "Louis, help him. He needs to sit down. He doesn't know what's going on."

Louis shifts his hold, quickly changing position to loop an arm around Harry's waist, holding his hip and he lifts Harry's arm to wrap around his shoulders in order to help keep him up right. "I've got you darling. Walk with me."

He slowly guides him, walking at a pace that works for Harry, over to sit in one of the empty chairs at the table. Though, the walking bit is literally carrying Harry since he has no strength in his legs or even mind for that matter.

He gently lowers Harry into the chair, not letting go of him until his bum touches the seat, ensuring that he isn't going to miss the chair and fall flat on his bum. That’s the last thing they need right now.

Louis squats down in front of Harry, placing his hands on the top of Harry's knees, and watches Harry's head roll. "How are you feeling now love? Better?"

He doesn't get a reply, instead Harry raises his hand to touch his face, but his brain has a different idea and he begins to smack his chest with an open palm.

Louis grabs his hand, intertwining their fingers briefly, and forces him to stop. "No, no, no. Don't hit yourself love. Don't do that. Can you talk me through what's happening sweetheart? Try talking slower. Deep breath and maybe we'll have a bit more time." Louis sweetly commands, even through his heart slamming up into his throat, and he side eyes Anne. "Reschedule this dinner. Now. Everyone needs to get out. He's going to go and no one here is doing any good but getting in the way."

Anne agrees, clasping her hands together, "Yes. We'll get together next week. It's not appropriate for everyone to stay seated, don't you think?"

Harry lets out a noise of agitation, "No - No, I - I'mmm...ah," he slumps forward a bit and Louis jolts up to grab his shoulders and hold him steady, to keep him from falling out of the chair.

He swallows as he watches Harry, who's struggling to breathe, weakly give an attempt to sit up. "Easy baby. You have to take it easy for me. I’ve got you."

"Come on girls. Let's go." Dan instantaneously orders, standing up and placing one hand on both of his shocked step-daughters shoulders.

"Is he - is he going to be alright?" Lottie asks, unease laced in her soft tone, oblivious to the foreign behavior she's witnessing.

Fizzy stays silent as she watches her brother interact with her brother-in-law to be.

Jay clears her throat, "Charlotte. Felicité. Go with Dan."

Dan encourages both of them to stand up, clutching their upper arms, and he quickly leads them out of the room by the small of their backs despite their various protests.

Louis ignores everything happening outside of Harry, instead he reaches up and touches Harry's cheek, drawing in a tremulous inhale as he watches his fiancé struggle to remain conscious, "Harry. Harry. Babe? Are you with me still?"

Cluster seizures aren't common with Harry, but Louis has recently seen him have up to five seizures within a twenty four hour period and this only proves his idea of something else being affected in Harry's head. His epilepsy has drastically changed suddenly and that can only mean that something has had a change in his neural functions.

"Robin. Jay. Gemma. I think it would be best for you to leave." Anne swallows. "Please?"

Louis lifts and holds Harry's head up slightly, hand cupping his chin, seeing as though he's incapable of holding his own head up. Harry's struggling to even hold eye contact with Louis at this point. His eyes lethargically shift to look at Louis. "Are you still with me? Harry? Haz? Can you talk?"

His mouth is drooping. "Naaaah. Naaa - illl." 

Louis stares at him. "Niall? No, love - I'm not..."

Harry screams. He literally fucking screams out in what must be frustration or fear or something, even unknown it's enough to make Louis jerk out of shock and trepidation.

"Shh, shh, don't do that. You don't want to make noises like that. They're not necessary. Hush, my love, we'll get over this soon enough." Louis quietly encourages. He cradles Harry's cheek. He's losing him at such a slow pace and it's honestly ripping his heart out to see Harry deteriorating second by second. 

Harry is the strongest man he knows. He can't stand seeing Harry incapable of helping himself. 

Robin exits the room without hesitation in order to please his wife. He briefly locks eyes with her before promptly walking out and she nods at him as if telling him she has it under control.

Jay pauses and watches Harry and Louis for a split second. She quickly walks over to Louis and she crouches down beside him, she presses her lips right near his ear and then whispers, "I am so proud of you." She kisses the top of his head and risks a glance at Harry. She swallows and moves towards Anne, taking her hands in her own. She remains silent before embracing her for a short while, patting Anne on the back. "He's going to be just fine." She promises before courteously departing to be with her daughters and husband.

Gemma hesitates, arms over her chest, standing off to the side as she watches her brother’s struggle in shock. "Mum I -"

"Gemma please. _Please_. I’m not having this discussion right now. Go with Johannah and the girls."

Gemma nods. "Take good care of my brother Louis." She whispers and spares one more look at the two of them.

"I promise." Louis shakily sighs and Gemma leaves, shutting the door behind her.

Harry meets Louis's eyes for a second and he forces a weak lopsided grin. Louis pats his cheek. "There's my boy. I'm going to get you on the floor babe."

He looks towards Anne to come across the sight of her glossy eyes fresh with tears threatening to break the surface and she's biting down on her bottom lip, conspicuously trying to cover her emotions up. "Anne, can you grab the chair out from under him? I'm going to lower him to the floor."

She nods and moves closer, but takes a second to pause, "Are you sure you can move him by yourself?"

Louis sighs, "I'm strong Anne. It’s fine. I'm sure I can hold him up. I moved him before without any help didn't I?"

She nods and grabs the back of the chair, slowly dragging it back, while Louis grabs underneath Harry's arms. He starts to tug Harry forward, so he's on the edge of the seat whilst Anne pulls it back. "I have you baby. Always. Remember that." Louis whispers in Harry's ear after his head falls forward, against Louis's chest.

Harry topples forward as Louis helps him to stand up on his feet, this forcing Louis himself to teeter backwards slightly. He briskly wraps his arms around Harry in attempt to keep the both of them upright. Harry is as good as dead weight against him. “You’re doing so good. I'm so proud of you Harry.” he whispers.

Once the chair is gone and out of the way, Louis slowly starts to kneel down on the floor, knees nearly buckling under Harry’s weight. He pulls Harry down with him until Harry's sitting down, flat on his bum, on the floor.

Louis tucks a hand underneath the small of Harry's back and the other hand rests in the middle of his chest. He gently helps Harry lay back on the carpeted ground. "You're going to feel so much better love. Once this is out of the way, I'll take you home and we can cuddle in the big bed. I bet that sounds amazing." He whispers and gently takes Harry's clammy hand in his.

Harry meets his eyes for another brief second before the twitching takes over his facial features. His eyelids clench and release while his nose continuously scrunches up and his lips pucker.

“It's okay," Louis whispers, brushing his thumb over Harry's knuckles. Yelps, not cries, not shouts, but pained yelps begin to leave Harry's mouth. Louis winces, his face scrunching up in despair, he doesn't like that noise, at all. It doesn't necessarily mean Harry's in pain, but it means something's beginning internally, the spasming is starting in his vocal cords and diaphragm. Harry rarely experiences seizures as involved as this one, "I know baby, shh. I know you're uncomfortable, but it's alright. It's going to be okay. I'm not going to leave. I'm right here and I don't plan on going anywhere." Louis leans forward and he undoes each button of Harry's shirt as quickly as he can with shaky hands. He parts the shirt, baring Harry's bare chest, and he swallows harshly. He can already see him unintentionally sucking his stomach in and puffing it back out. He's _slowly_ fading into the epileptic fit.

Slow building seizures are the worst. He doesn't like to see Harry incoherent and in discomfort as it is, an extra few minutes of watching Harry struggle makes him physically ill sometimes.

Harry's looking around for him and manages to catch his eyes briefly as if pleading for him to do something, _anything_. "Shh. I know Haz, I know. You've got to hold on for me though, alright? I'm going to help you, I promise. You have to give me the chance to do so." What he means, truly, is I need you to go into the seizure because there's nothing I can do right now.

Louis hates feeling helpless. There is _nothing_ he can do. He can't stand the feeling.

Anne kneels down beside Louis and she tugs her dress back down over her knees. She doesn't say a word as she looks between the two boys, as though she can't find the proper words to say. Louis is oblivious to her presence as he cares for Harry. All of his attention is on the love of his life.

Louis clutches and constricts his hand tightly once again and he smiles softly when Harry squeezes his hand back, equally as tight, "I love you Harry."

Harry peers in his general direction and gives him a certain look as though he's saying 'I love you too.'

Harry's grip soon falls lax on his hand and Louis releases his hold on him, sitting back on his heels. Harry's limbs tighten as the tonic phase of the seizure is reached. Louis looks around quickly and thereafter snaps his fingers, pointing towards Anne, "Your shawl. Anne, hand me your shawl." he demands and Anne thrusts the gray shawl in front of his line of sight. He takes it, bundles it, and pillows it underneath Harry's head.

Harry stays completely still for multiple seconds, nearly thirty, before a guttural cry escapes the back of his throat. Louis winces at the noise, turning his head away, and focusing his sight on a particular plate on the table. For him, watching the seizing begin is the worst part of any of it.

Harry’s fists are balled tightly together and his ankles and wrists spasm inward rhythmically. His jaw contracts downward with every sharp movement of his shoulders and constricted exhales became the dominant sound in the room as he struggles to breathe through his contracting throat.

Anne gasps, covering her mouth with her hand as she miserably watches her son convulse on the floor. She still doesn't manage to say anything as though she’s lost her ability to speak.

Harry's dark pants shift to an even darker color on the spectrum as his bladder voids. Louis leans forward and rubs Harry's chest, around his prominent collarbones. "It's okay. It's okay. Shhh. You're doing so good Harry. It's all going to end baby. You're okay. I love you." Louis whispers as he rubs soothing circles into Harry's flesh.

His hand moves up to swipe away the spit leaving his mouth in timely intervals. He risks a few looks at Harry's face and finds himself wishing he hadn't. He has always had trouble stomaching the way Harry's eyes twitch. His precious green eyes are what made Louis fall in the first place; he can’t bear seeing them appear any less flawless than they usually look.

His hands run over the ink on his lovers flesh, his delicate fingers graze over the outline of the butterfly and the swallows. He watches Harry closely, watching as sharp jolts constrict his limbs into different directions.

He suddenly blurts out, without thinking, "I can't believe he's been like this since he was four, Anne."

Anne shakes her head, huge tears are cascading down her cheeks, and she looks down. "I will always remember the day when he had his first seizure. He was only four years old Louis. A baby. _My baby_." Anne cries, burying her tear-stricken face into one of her manicured hands. "He had just _fallen_ over outside. I thought he had tripped, you know how clumsy Harry is. I expected him to get back up but he didn't. He never got back up. He started shaking...and he wasn’t coming too. It was horrible. ” She runs her hand through her jet black hair.” Oh god. My poor baby." She sniffles.

Louis's eyes burn with fresh tears as he listens to the rawness in her usual soft tone. He swallows and looks towards Harry as she continues. "I couldn’t stop holding him. I thought he had died. Paramedics came and they were awful about everything. They wouldn’t tell me anything and they wouldn’t let me go with him in the back of the ambulance. They kept him under observation at the hospital and then he had another one." She keeps her eyes fixated on a portion of her dress. “They told me he had tested positive for epilepsy. I couldn't believe my baby could have something so awful. I still can't believe it."

"I am so sorry Anne. I couldn't imagine." He looks towards Harry and whispers, "Come on baby. It's okay. It's okay. Come back to me. Come back for your mum and I."

"I never thought he would live a normal life, but he absolutely has proved me wrong. And I’m so happy that he did. I mean look at where he is and - _with you_." She wipes at her eyes, without a care, as makeup comes off on her fingers. "You love him so much, despite all of this. I will never be able to thank you enough."

Louis shakes his head, "Liam already interrogated me on this before. This is nothing Anne, an accessory to our relationship, if anything. It doesn't matter to me. I know if this were me right now Harry would be doing the same. I have no doubt in my mind that he feels the same about me as I do him. I love him more than anything, epilepsy or not."

"I know you do. You're so good to him Louis. Thank you. Thank you so much." She whispers.

Harry's shaking feverishly intensifies for about thirty seconds before it calms into tremors, "Easy Harry. It's okay love. You're doing great. I'm so proud of you." He whispers as his hand brushes against Harry's torso, up and down, in a soothing dragging motion. "It's okay. I need you to quit shaking and come back to me. It's all okay. Take your time sweetheart." He gently says.

Harry's tremors then subside into a vague fixated immobility and Louis pushes his hair from his still face.

Louis says, "I hope he doesn't have a third seizure tonight. These are the worst. I can’t even imagine how he feels after one, let alone two or three."

Instead of answering, Anne asks, "Do you think there’s any way you can make his appointment sooner?"

"I'm going to call Dr. Richards in the morning and see what I can do." Louis replies and he shifts his position closer to Harry's head in order to card his fingers through his hair without having to lean over his stationary frame. "You're beautiful Harry. Even more beautiful if you were to open your eyes for me." He whispers.

He lightly rubs Harry's scalp and Harry tilts his head into Louis’s touch "There you go. Wake up for me." Louis whispers, "I'm right here. Come to me baby."

Harry slowly flutters his eyelids open and he looks at Louis for a split second before a grunt leaves his mouth and he's vomiting all down the front of himself. Louis's mouth drops in surprise and he quickly moves to turn Harry back onto his side so he doesn't, _god forbid_ , choke on his own vomit. "Relax. Harry. It's okay. I've got you. You're okay love. Deep breathes. All right?"

Harry ceases puking and continues to lie on his side, without an attempt to face Louis. He shuts his eyes as a violent sob tears its way through the back of his throat. It's only the beginning of what coming to his senses brings on. He begins to sob brokenly and hardly, so hard he can barely catch his breath. Louis can hear the way his breath keeps catching in his throat. Harry's palm repeatedly slams on the ground and Louis's own tears start to blur his vision. He's never, ever heard Harry cry quite this hard. "Harry. Harry, calm down, it’s okay. Shh. Baby, calm down. What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

Anne watches in shock, her own light colored eyes filling to the brim with tears once again.

"Harry, shh, sweetheart, please calm down." He rubs his hand over Harry's side as Harry's back continues to be turned to him. "Calm down. Baby, please. What's wrong?" He asks.

"I don' wan' to be sick anymore." Harry cries. "I don' wan' to be sick Lou. Help me Louis. Please help me."

"I am love. I'm _always_ going to help you." Louis whispers. "I love you Harry. Will you look at me please?"

Harry cries harder at that and he shakes his head. He chokes over his own words, pleading, "No! No Lou. Please make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Please. I’m sorry."

"Harry, darling, look at me," He grabs Harry's shoulders and he hauls him closer. "Baby, please, _please_ baby look at me,” Louis's voice cracks.

Harry opts not to face Louis, continuing to whimper, and Louis gently forces him to turn onto his other side. He slides his hand underneath Harry's back and helps him sit up. Harry buries his face into Louis's neck and cries against him, chest heaving as he struggles to breathe. "Shh, baby," Louis whispers and he holds him tighter. "I know these past months have been frustrating, but I'm going to fix you right up and you're going to start feeling better. I promise. Shh. Calm down. It’s okay. I’m going to help you." Louis whispers, resting his cheek on top of Harry's head as he cradles him. Harry's quite a bit bigger but he will always be Louis's baby. Always. "I'm going to take you home and fix you up."

Anne moves closer and she grazes Harry's arm. "It's going to be okay darling." She whispers and she wraps her arms around both of her boys. "I love you both." She whispers.

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry." Harry sniffles against Louis’s neck.

Louis coos, kissing the top of Harry's head, "Don't apologize. It's okay. It’s okay. I love you."

Burying his face further into the side of Louis’s neck, Harry whispers a quiet, “I love you too.”

This is going to be over soon. He's never going to let Harry be in pain like this ever again. It isn't fair to him, it isn't fair to Anne, but most of all it's not fair to Harry.

Louis whispers, "I'm going to fix you."

And he will.


	5. Chapter 5

“Hello, this is Collin from the National Hospital for Neurology and Neurosurgery. How may I direct your call?”

It’s Saturday morning. Louis has been trying to get through to reception for proximately an hour; needless to say he’s a tad bit agitated. He straightens up in the arm chair and clears his throat, glancing towards the electric clock sitting in the far corner of the living room. The clock reads 8:21. “It’s about bloody time someone picked up. I’ve been ringing you for nearly an hour.”

The man on the other line hardly sounds intimidated or fazed at Louis's bitter tone, “My apologies sir. We’re very busy down here this morning. What can I assist you with?”

“Why is it every last single one of you receptionists sound like a robot?” Louis asks, arching an eyebrow at the impeccably formal presence on the other side of the phone. “I am speaking with a person am I not?”

“Sir –“

“It’s Louis.”

“Louis,” there’s a pause and subsequently a sigh, “Can I help you? I’ve got three other people on hold at the moment.”

Louis suggests, “Perhaps it’s time you get more employees,” he shifts in the chair and crosses his ankles, one over the other, “Alright, Collin, all I need to know is if Dr. Richards is in today.”

Conceivably, Louis is a bit more than irritated, but no one can possibly incriminate him. After all, he’s speaking with a robot at half past eight in the morning only after being on hold with the same, persistent nauseating elevator music left to entertain him. Surely, there was nothing on the television to keep him occupied besides infomercial after infomercial for some cockamamie vacuum cleaner and anyways he can’t multi-task, his attention span doesn’t allow him to.

“She is. I’m afraid she’s booked.”

Louis rolls his eyes, sighs, and then glances up at the ceiling as if attempting to obtain the internal vigor to keep calm and not rip this receptionist’s head off. His eyes catch a discolored splotch on the beige tile. Funny, he doesn’t remember a leak being there earlier in the week. Its entirety means there’s another handy job available for Harry to accomplish because he, himself, isn’t about to get on a ladder or on the roof for that matter. He doesn’t even know what he’d be looking for. “She’s booked all day?”

“Yes.”

Louis sighs, shifting his glasses upwards to pinch the bridge of nose between the pads of his thumb and index finger, “Well is it possible to perhaps shift another appointment to a different day or make time for another patient? Work with me here Collin.”

He risks a glance towards the long corridor that commences on the opposing side of the living room and he draws in a deep breath. He isn’t sure if Harry’s awake yet. He had been in a deep slumber when Louis had woken up and went to take a shower and withal hadn’t moved an inch when Louis returned to ask if he had wanted breakfast.

Though, that was an hour ago and he very well may be gracing the world with his presence at this very moment. Louis, for one, knows how expeditiously things can change and an hour is hardly long at all.

The next question pulls him out of his realm of indifference and back into brutal reality, “Are you the patient?”

He blinks a few times as though it will help him focus once again. “Uh – no, no my fiancé is.”

“What is your fiancé’s name?”

Louis replies without a second of hesitance, “Harry Styles,” He heedfully listens to the rhythmic clattering of the keyboard on the other line as Collin enters the information into the computer. He discerns Collin begin to ask the next question, but he beats him to it, “His birthday is February 1st, 1994.”

“It says here that he is a residential epileptic patient, is this correct?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it additionally says that he has a scheduled appointment set for the twenty eighth of this month.”

Louis hoists his head up when he perceives a quiet groan emit its way from the bedroom. He feels obligated to check on Harry, but he also needs to get an earlier appointment set in stone.

Besides, Bruce would come and get him if something wasn’t orderly.

Bruce happens to be Harry’s seizure response dog, otherwise meaning he can detect when Harry’s neural activity changes and he’s able to take care of him. He’s well trained, denoting he moves possible obstructions that could cause bodily harm to Harry out of the way, utilizes his snout to move Harry into an recovery position, and barks until he receives Louis’s attention, sometimes he’ll even come and find Louis if he’s somewhere else in the house.

They’ve had Bruce for about three years. They adopted him when he was a few years old from a center that was prominent for selling guide and response dogs.  Harry and Louis had made the mistake of letting the boys’ name him because neither of them could decide on a name, so Liam ultimately went with a Batman reference and both Niall and Zayn agreed to it.

“Believe me, I’m well aware, but I need an appointment as soon as possible.”

“If it’s really quite as urgent as you’re making it out to be you should take him to Accident and Emergency at your local hospital.”

Louis groans, “Look, I need to get my fiancé in to see his specialist as soon as possible. Something is wrong with his medication and I’m not about to have another few weeks of seizures galore. If I need to go above you then believe me mate I will. I have connections and unless you would like to be out of a job I suggest you drop the attitude and help me.”

There’s a brief silence on both ends of the phone, “I’m going to page Dr. Richards. I’m going to put you on hold for a few minutes.”

Louis doesn’t even get a chance to reply before the elevator music continues to play through the speakers again. He sighs and stands up from the arm chair, keeping the phone pressed to his ear, before leading himself down the hall to the master bedroom.

The door is open as he left it and he peeks his head around the frame, “Harry, love, are you awake?” He calls out softly.  
Bruce is snuggled into Harry’s side. He burrows his face further underneath Harry as Harry shifts slightly to look up at Louis.

“Morning Lou.” He whispers, though his words come out scarcely rough and slurred.

“Hey,” Louis smiles softly and he moseys his way over to the bed. “How are you feeling this morning princess?”

Harry laughs impotently at the use of the term and a grin surmounts the span of his face, making his dimpled present.  “Better than last night.”

“But?”

“I’m sore. My eyes hurts.” He says with slight amusement in his tone and Louis nods gradually, taking in the bruising and swelling around Harry’s right eye. He knew the seizure at dinner wasn’t the last of it, but he had still left Harry alone in the bedroom once they got home. He had only intended to be gone a few minutes or so to get a bandage for a cut underneath Harry’s chin.

The good news is he came back in time to witness Harry smack his face off of the bed post. It was the ultimate highlight of his night.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone. If I –“

Harry automatically interrupts, “Lou, please, don’t blame yourself,” He gradually sits up, wincing when he twists the wrong way. Louis moves forward to help him, but Harry shakes him off with an, “Don’t worry. I’ve got it.”

“Are you alright? I can get you some medicine and juice if you want? Yeah, I think I’ll do that. I’ll –“

Harry steadily reaches forward and clasps his hand around Louis’s wrist, constricting gently, “I’m fine. Please, stop worrying. Sit down and relax. You’re going to have a stroke if you keep this up. I’m fine. Walking and talking, aren’t I?”

Harry gives him a tug back and Louis gradually resides on the edge of the bed, “Well, technically, you’re not walking.”

Bruce gradually gets on all fours and he rubs up against Louis, licking his hand. Louis rubs the back of his ears with ease, “Good boy.”

“You know what I meant,” Harry rolls his left eyes, considering the right one is hardly visible. “Enough about me. How are you babe?  – Who are you speaking with?” He nods towards the phone Louis securely has in his grasp.

“I’m fine Harry, just fine,” Louis smiles reassuringly. “Oh – um, me mum.”

“Tell her I’m genuinely sorry about last night. I would, but I sound like a blubbering idiot, don’t I?”

Typically after seizures Harry doesn’t sound like Harry for a few days to follow. During seizures his teeth clamp down on his tongue, the inside of his cheeks, as well as his other teeth, thus making it sound like he’s talking through a mouth full of cotton post-seizure. Considering he’s undergone three seizures in the past twenty-four hours, Louis is surprised he’s even able to compose sentences. Louis is use to Harry’s words being garbled, so he’s able to get the gist of what he’s saying, if not understand him entirely.

“You don’t sound like an idiot, darling, just a bit different.” He touches Harry’s cheek and smiles.

Harry smiles weakly and looks down, “You’re too good for me.”

Louis brushes Harry’s hair out of his face and presses his lips to his forehead, “We both know that's not true. It’s the other way around, definitely. I’m one lucky man.”

“Louis? Louis? Are you still there sir?”

Harry peers at Louis’s phone with an arched eyebrow, “Your mum huh?” He asks after detecting that the voice in fact is male.  
   
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” Louis sighs, pulling away from Harry. Harry cuts him a sharp look as if instantaneously plotting his death and Louis rolls his eyes, “Alright, alright, calm down, I don’t need you getting yourself worked up, it’s a guy from that neurology hospital. One second,” He holds the phone up to his ear, “I’m hoping, for your sake Collin, that you have good news for me.”

“That I do. Dr. Richards has decided to cut her lunch in half and she will see you and Mr. Styles at eleven thirty.”

“Wicked. See, I knew you were a good guy Collin. Bye now.” He hangs up and tosses his phone the short distance onto the nightstand.  He looks towards Harry, “I should start helping you get ready now, seeing as we need to be out of here at eleven and it’s going to take me an hour just to get your pants on.” Louis says.

“Where are we going?”  
   
“To the doctors,” Louis replies and he watches as Harry’s pleased expression sinks. He slowly lies back on the bed and begins to pull the covers back over himself before Louis yanks them out of his grip, he pulls them off of Harry entirely, coercing the younger boy to whine, “Oh come on, Haz. It’s not that bad. It’s good. They’re going to check everything out and make you feel better.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re not the one who’s going to be poked and prodded all day.”

“Well, no,” Louis pauses. “But who’s not to say that won’t happen later on tonight?” he smirks, biting down on his inner lower lip.

“I don’t –“Harry stares at him and shakes his head, “You’re delusional. I’m not having sex with you when it hurts to move Louis.”

“Well, if I help you out this morning with that morning wood you’ve got going,” He gestures to the crotch of Harry’s pants. “You have to repay me somehow. What about a handy later on? You’re quite good with your hands.”

“Louis I can hardly move. You’ve –“Harry starts to argue and then shuts his mouth when he sees the dominating, dark blue-eyed look Louis’s giving him. He internally debates it for about a second, “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

“Good,” Louis smiles, eyes crinkled in the corners, “ _Now_. Let me take care of you.” He leans over and seductively brushes the tips of his fingers down Harry’s bare torso.

Harry whispers, reaching forward and clasping Louis’s hand inside of his own, “Lou. No.”

"And why not?" Louis cocks an eyebrow up.

Ignoring the question, Harry huffs, "Will you please help me get up so we can go to the bloody doctor?"

Louis locks eyes with him for a split second before nodding, slightly confused, "Yeah, yeah, sure," He moves away from Harry and stands up, bedside the bed. "Can you sit up a bit more," he requests and Harry nods. He braces himself on the mattress and gradually pushes himself into a sitting position. "Good. Swing your legs over the mattress for me. Take it easy." Louis guides, patting the side of the mattress.

Harry does exactly that, expressionless, but Louis doesn't miss the tension strung out across his facial features. "All right?" he touches Harry's cheek and Harry shakes his head.

"I'm sorry." He whispers.

Louis furrows his eyebrows, "Don't be," He grabs Harry's hands, lacing his small ones with the younger boy’s larger ones. He tugs upwards and Harry groans in discomfort, giving up and settling back down onto the mattress. "Okay love?" Louis whispers, halting in the pulling as he cautiously analyzes Harry.

"Hurts. Have to do it though." Harry mumbles.

Louis nods and gives him another tug upwards, wincing when he hears another noise of discomfort leave Harry. This time he heaves him up to his feet and Harry clenches his eyes shut once he's standing. "Breathe. Take a deep breath." Louis whispers. "It's alright. We can stand here for as long as you need to."

Harry's seizures don't stop at convulsing on the floor. Sometimes the after effects are worse than the actual seizure. Besides for not being able to talk on occasion, feeling sore for days to come, and being exhausted for the longest time there's the mental effects. Harry manages to always get himself too overwhelmed and he's sensitive for days to follow. He goes through mood swings and cries for hours on end and Louis's never able to manage it properly.

There was one time, after a seizure Harry had had in the backyard where he had sobbed for nearly two hours over Bruce. There had been no particular reason, he took one look at the dog and started weeping and it was one of the times where Louis wasn't able to calm him down.

"I'm alright. Let’s get ready." Harry whispers. "Thank you Louis. I love you."

"I love you too."

As it turns out, Louis was correct about starting to get ready at quarter to nine because it takes the two of them nearly an hour and a half to get ready. Between showering and getting dressed there was hardly anytime left to do anything else besides get in the car and head out.

The ride over is completely silent, not a word between the two of them is spoken, leaving the two of them to their own thoughts.

Louis risks a few glances over at Harry, who sits curled in on himself, staring out the window, as Louis drives the two of them through the busy streets of London. There isn't any way to do this discretely, they have to hope no paparazzi or fans hear word of them out and about together.

Life would be easier if they were out of the closet, there is no denying it. If they were free to do as they wanted with no restrictions, everything would be more enjoyable and easier.

Louis pulls into the lot behind the large medical building. He has to go through a rude valet guy who insists on driving his jeep and heaps of complicated gating before he's allowed to park. Even then he has to park in a certain sector. He glances towards Harry, resting his hand on top of his thigh. "Ready?"

He hates days like these where Harry isn't _his_ Harry. Harry is an entirely different person, he loses his sensible, charismatic attitude and he becomes closed off. Louis hasn't seen much of his Harry in the past few months ever since his epilepsy progressed and he does certainly miss him. So, it isn't entirely wrong to say that today is partially for him. It is.

 He wants his Harry, the Harry he first fell in love with years ago.

Louis has always been the dominant one in the relationship, in and out of the bedroom, he's always been the compass to Harry's ship and that's why they've gotten it inked.

Harry is the submissive one. He's quiet most times because he wants to spare others' feelings and he's afraid to verbalize what he would like to do or what he would like from other people.

Louis is opposite of Harry in most ways and that's why their relationship is intertwined together as well as it is. Louis has always been known and noticed for his boisterous, audacious attitude. He isn't afraid to demand or throw himself into an immediate protective mode. He doesn't take shit from anyone and he doesn't allow Harry to get shit on either.

"I guess so." Harry uncurls himself and stretches his arms out in front of him with tenderness.

"Everything's going to be okay. I'll be there the entire time."

Harry offers him a weak smile, "I love you Louis. Thank you."

"Stop. Don't thank me. I love you too."

Louis pulls the key out of the ignition and he gets out of the car. He goes to Harry's side of the car and helps him out as gently as he can. There's going to be strain no matter what he does, but he's trying to make it a bit more comfortable for Harry.

Harry leans into him as they walk across the parking lot. "How did I end up with such a babe?"

Subsequently, there's times like these, during altered post-seizure stages where bits of Harry shines through.

"I ask myself that question every day." Louis kisses the side of his head.

Harry laughs, attempting to bury his face in Louis's neck, even though he's much taller than his older boyfriend, "Stop."

Louis opens the door for the two of them and he straightens up because now there's an abundance of people waiting in the lobby and he sees a few teenagers and young adults. He moves his arm to wrap around Harry's shoulders to appear as _dudebropals_ rather than the secret lovers that they are.

Louis suggests, "Why don't you take a seat babe? I’m going to go check us in."

Harry nods and he finds himself an empty seat against the wall with an empty one sitting adjacent to it.

Louis walks up to the front counter and he leans his elbows on it. "My fiancé has an appointment today at 11:30."

The man sitting behind the counter glances up at him and a grimace flashes across his features, "You're Louis then?"

"I am. Collin?" He assumes and the dirty blond curtly nods at him. "Good lad. Everything's set for Harry's appointment, yeah?"

"Yes. A nurse will be out soon to take you back," he slips a clipboard in Louis's direction. "I need for you to sign in." He hands Louis a pen.

"What do I need to write down?"

"Your full name, your relationship to Harry, Harry's full name, his date of birth, and your signature. These are just precautions."

Louis nods and carefully reads each line before scribbling down the rquirements. He slides the clip board and pen back to Collin. “Is that all?”

“Yes,” Collin takes the clipboard and pen back. He smiles weakly, "Thanks. Have a seat. Dr. Richards will be with you soon."

The idea that celebrities get special treatment when it comes to medical and recreational facilities is a lie. All the rumored special treatment is bullshit and used as a way to irritate normal middle-class citizens. They have to sit in a waiting room and pay hospital finances just like everyone else in the entire world.

Louis doesn’t say a word as he returns to Harry, settling into the vacated seat beside him. He notices Harry staring down at the ring on his finger, entirely zoned out as he didn’t respond to Louis sitting down. “Love? You good?”

“Lou, when are we going to get married?” He asks, catching Louis off guard completely, “We haven’t even started planning the wedding. I want you to be my _husband_.”

“ _Harry_ ,” Louis sighs deeply, “We haven’t had time.”

“But we’ve been engaged for years. Zayn and Perrie have been planning their own, why can’t we?”

They were engaged just before, literally a matter of weeks before Zayn proposed to Perrie, back in early August of 2013.

All the boys immediately suspected Louis would be the one to propose to Harry when in reality Harry had proposed to Louis. He had proposed during the Take Me Home tour, making it a big, planned out ordeal as everything Harry takes pride in is. He proposed in Las Vegas after the boys had decided to go to a large, extravagant magic show, even though Niall and Liam were the only ones who showed any sort of interest in it.

He took Louis by absolute surprise. The bright, colorful lights, the blaring music, the proposal, and the presence of the ones he cared most about made for a perfect moment managing to overwhelm him. One of the things about Louis is he hardly ever gets worked up and when he does it’s always because something big has happened.

He cried hard that night and he swears the embrace he shared with Harry that night after shouting, “Yes! Oh god yes!” lasted a millennium.

For their four year anniversary present, Louis went and bought an engagement ring of his own for Harry. He’s never seen Harry cherish anything as much since then. He wears the ring every day and it’s become a habit to play with it when he’s anxious or scared. He claims that it makes Louis’s presence impossible to miss.

Louis stays silent for a few moments before saying, “Tell you what, as soon as we figure all of this hospital shit out, you and I can start planning it. How’s that sound?”

“Promise?”

“Of course, darling, I promise,” Louis reaches over and pats his thigh encouragingly.

Harry gives a quick glance around the waiting room, they’re pretty well hidden, and he’s willing to take the chance. He clutches Louis’s hand in his own, lacing their fingers together on top of his thigh, “Do you think we can have it in Madrid? The architecture is beautiful there.”

“You’ve been thinking about this for a while haven’t you?” 

Harry pauses for a second, “Baby, will they marry us in Madrid?”

Louis’s outwards posture shifts quickly, he doesn’t want to think about whether Spain will marry two gay men or not and he doesn’t want to think about the stress of arranging it, “Not right now Harry. Please?”

It isn’t that Louis doesn’t want to discuss their wedding plans. He does, definitely. If it were up to him he’d get married to Harry right this second, but he’s considering all the factors he knows once they get married Harry will want to be romantic and clingy all the time and the world isn’t ready for them yet. Once everything is organized he’ll be more than happy to discuss it and make plans but until then he wants to focus on one thing at a time. He has his head turning in too many directions without adding a wedding to the mix.

Harry mumbles, “Sorry.”

“Just one thing at a time is all I’m asking. I can’t plan a wedding with you right now. I promise we’ll start to look at venues or catering or whatever the hell you want once we take care of a few more priorities.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

The two of them fall into an uncomfortable silence, their hands are still laced together, but the speaking has ceased to exist, part of it being nerves and the other part being not knowing what exactly to say.

 A nurse is light blue scrubs appears in the doorway. She looks unfriendly with her forced smile and messy hair. “Harry Styles?”

“That was quick.” Louis says under his breath, surprised.  They usually take ages to get anyone in and out of there for their appointments.

Harry turns to Louis in almost a panic, "You're coming with me right?"

Louis glances at Harry and nods, "Of course. I wouldn't leave you all by yourself."

He stands up and he pulls Harry up with him.

The nurse with a name tag that reads _Eloise_ stands by the doorway with a tight grimace as she waits for the two of them to follow her. She has a clipboard drawn tightly to her chest.

Louis moves his hand to rest on the small of Harry's back, though nothing about Harry is small. He guides him along as he always does. He's always there to lead him and to catch him.

Eloise smiles; once Harry and Louis are close in vicinity she begins to lead them down a sterilized hallway, "Hi boys. How are you today?"

"Good and yourself?" Harry asks as he walks level with Louis.

Harry's always been friendly with the staff at any hospital he's been in. He's been to quite a few in the time Louis's known him and he always has a way of being polite even when the situation isn't under the best circumstances.

"I'm well. Thank you for asking." She stops in front of a scale. "Alright Harry, today you're going to give me a short physical before Dr. Richards comes in to see you. Step up on the scale for me."

Louis drags his hand off of Harry's back, allowing him to step up on the scale, though he continues to stand nearby because he's in a cautious, protective mode which he will continue to be in for weeks to follow, possibly even well into tour when it starts up again.

Eloise adjusts the black sliders on the individual scales until she reaches an accurate measurement. She lets out a satisfied hum, "12 stone. Very good." She says as she scribbles the information down onto the clipboard. "Now, if you'll follow me. I'll take you back to a room."

Harry glances back at Louis as if checking for his reaction. Louis smiles at him and offers him his hand, "Come on love."

Harry clasps onto his hand and constricts tightly. Louis can virtually feel the apprehension coursing through Harry's veins. He's nervous and Louis can't possibly blame him for being anxious. All the tests that are run are quite scary, especially MRI's. The idea of being encased has always freaked Louis out, yet that's all Harry's known. He never had a chance to form a fear of it. Louis can never grasp the idea of a four year old having epilepsy nor can he ever imagine having seizures for seventeen consecutive years.

"Here we are," Eloise announces, gesturing to a vacant room with her hand. "Go on in and take a seat." She risks a look at Louis whose irritation of the entire situation is on display. She quickly suggests, "You can sit in the chair near the bed."

Louis nods and he leads Harry in the room, stepping past Eloise in the process. He assists Harry in sitting on top of the uncomfortable looking seat; gripping underneath his arms and helping him lift himself up. "All right?" He takes a seat in the plastic chair near the leather bound one.

"All good Lou." Harry adjusts himself, laughing quietly and nervously at all the noise he's making because of the thin layer of paper on the medical chair.

Eloise shuts the door behind herself, "Okay, lovebirds. Harry I'm going to take your blood pressure," Eloise tells as she grabs the arm cuff from the wall. She moves towards Harry and pushes his sleeve up before strapping the cuff onto his bicep. She pumps air into it, keeping her eyes narrowed on the meter.

Louis asks as he watches, "Do you know what tests he's getting done?"

"I know he's getting both an MRI and a blood test done. Dr. Richards hasn't decided if she wants to perform an EEG. I'm not sure what else she has planned." She explains. "I want you to breathe normally Harry. I'm going to test it again. We don't want your blood pressure coming back higher than it actually is."

Harry immediately looks towards Louis for assurance. All Louis has to do is smile at him and nod, virtually telling him everything’s alright, and he sees the flush of relief pass over Harry's features.

"Better," Eloise reads the scale. "A bit high, but that's probably due to your nerves."

"How high?" Louis asks as she writes it down in her notes.

"140/90. It's nothing to be worried about." She reassures as she hooks the arm cuff back to a clip. "Those are the only measurements I need. Dr. Richards will be in shortly to get what she needs and explain further to you. It was lovely meeting you both." She shakes Harry's hand and subsequently Louis's before finding her way out of the room.

“I hate MRI’s.” Harry blurts out immediately after Eloise leaves.

Louis looks towards him, “It’s going to be alright. Maybe you’ll fall asleep.”

Harry nods and the uncomfortable silence takes over the room again. Louis isn’t sure what else he can possibly say to Harry at this moment.

Harry breaks the silence, “Lou. What if they find something wrong?”

“What if they find out everything was a screw-up at the pharmacy?”  Louis has his own worries that they’re going to find something wrong, but if he lets Harry know that then it’s going to be a mess from that point onwards. “You can’t do that right now. The amount of _what ifs_ is infinite Harry. You can’t focus on all the bad ones. Everything’s going to be fine, no matter what.”

Harry draws in a deep breath, “How do you know?”

“No matter what happens today, I’m going to be right by your side. You’re not going to lose me. Everything’s going to go just fine.”

“I love you.” Harry smiles, dimples and all, without a moment of hesitance.

“I love you too.”

The amount of _I love you’s_ exchanged within a day is astronomical, but even through the amount of times it’s said Louis never feels any different and the strength behind them is always just as strong and meaningful.

There’s a knock at the door before Dr. Richards allows herself inside the compact room. “Hello Harry. Louis, I heard you put my receptionist through a rough time this morning.”

Louis grins at that, “I did. I’m sorry for taking your lunch away from you.”

“Not a problem. My patients come before myself,” she takes a seat in a stool. She’s barring a clipboard and a file, most likely Harry’s. “How are both of you today? I notice you have a black eye. What’s that from?” She asks, glancing towards Harry.

Harry clears his throat, attempting to sound confident, “Seizure.”

She stands up and moves over to him, standing in front of his legs. “I want to take a look. May I?” Harry nods at her and she gently grabs underneath his chin to lift his head upwards. She pulls out a tiny penlight and she very gently pushes his eyelid up.

Louis truly likes Dr. Richards and he knows Harry feels the same way. She’s everything a doctor should be. She’s calm, humble, and she tells everything exactly the way it is. Sometimes it’s rough to hear the truth, but she’s soft-spoken and easy to talk to.

“It’s just a contusion,” She shuts the penlight off and drops it back into the front pocket of her lab coat. She takes a seat once again. “Alright, now Louis,” she shifts her stare in his general direction. “Why did you bring Harry in today to see me?”

Harry glances towards him and then peers back down at his engagement ring, sliding it up and down his finger.  “Well, he’s been having frequent seizures. He started having cluster seizures a few weeks ago. He had three last night. We changed his medication, but I feel like he only got worse.”

Dr. Richards adjusts her glasses, “Who gave you the authorization to change his medication?”

“His neurologist, Dr. Sebastian, in Los Angeles did,” Louis sighs. “Should I have not let him?”

“Well, it’s an issue. I didn’t communicate with Dr. Sebastian which should have happened. It’s not your fault,” she flips through Harry’s file until she reaches the page she needs. “So, Harry isn’t on Phenytoin anymore?”

“No.”

“Do you know what medication he’s taking now?”

Louis sighs, rubbing his face as he thinks, “I’m not sure.”

“Mysoline.” Harry replies and Dr. Richards looks towards him. ”I’m one hundred positive.”

She nods and writes it down, “And you’re taking that orally correct?”

“Yes.”

“Very good. Okay. Louis, how long have his seizures been lasting for? Have you had to call for medical assistance?”

Louis looks towards Harry and all he can see is pure anxiety. He reaches for his hand and gently takes it in his own, squeezing reassuringly, “I haven’t had to call an ambulance. They’re usually about two, two and a half minutes long.”

“That’s a good sign. You said he’s been having cluster seizures recently. How long is the time in between them?”

Louis glances towards the ceiling as he thinks it over, “An hour maybe, sometimes two.”

She flips the file shut after writing down all the information, “That’s all I need to know at this point in time. I’m going to go ahead and take him down for a blood test and an MRI. You’re welcome to stay here.” She stands up and moves towards Harry.

“How long is it going to take?”

“He should be back in half an hour. Then we’ll discuss the results and options.”

Louis nods and he watches Harry slide off of the chair. He begins to exit the room with Dr. Richards and Louis sighs, calling out to him, “Everything’s going to be okay love.” 

The door shuts behind the two of them and Louis sits in silence as he glances around the room. It’s unbelievably sterile and white; the smell of bleach is starting to give him a slight headache. He can’t help but use this time to worry about Harry. He wants everything to be okay and Dr. Richards didn’t sound too concerned, did she?

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and he immediately sees three missed calls from Niall. “What does he want?” he whispers to himself.

He puts in his password and scrolls to Niall’s contact, feeling resentment deep in his veins. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone right this minute but he also knows Niall is going to keep calling until he picks up. That’s what he always does. Three missed calls will soon turn into thirty if he doesn’t call him back, he knows how Niall works.

Once he gets home he has to call Anne and his mum because they demanded that as soon as Louis knew what was going on with Harry they had to know as well.

The other end of the phone picks up and somehow Niall’s brogue is much thicker when he talks on the phone. He’s much more Irish over the phone, “Louis?”

“Yeah it’s me. What’s up mate?” Louis asks as he zeros in on a poster on the wall that has some ridiculous pun about neurology typed on it.

There’s a pause on the other line, as if Niall’s picking his words out very carefully, “Is Harry alright?”

Louis focus falls from the lamented poster and he furrows his eyebrows. “Why wouldn’t he be? Do you know something I don’t?”

“No. I was texting Gemma last night and she said you were taking him to the hospital this morning. She said he had a few seizures last night.”

“I don’t know yet. He’s in the middle of an MRI right now. I’ll know in a bit.”

Niall and Gemma are good friends. They have been since the start of One Direction, for whatever reason they got on the minute they met. It’s the only close bond any of the siblings have with any of the boys, besides for maybe Gemma and Louis or Lottie and Harry, but it doesn’t count because they’re family now and they’re not left a choice.

“Sounds serious. What happened?”

Louis runs his hand through his unkempt hair, “He had three seizures last night. He was a wreck after the second one. I couldn’t wait any longer. Someone needed to look at him. This isn’t fair to him.”

“It isn’t fair to _you._ ” Niall reiterates.

Louis rolls his eyes, “This isn’t about me.”

“Sure it is. You can’t keep busting your ass like you are. Your whole life can’t revolve around his safety. It isn’t healthy. Once this is straightened out, I think things will be a lot better for you _and_ him,” Niall pauses again. “I get that you love him Lou. Everyone understands that you love him. I know he loves you too, but you can’t revolve around him. He’s always going to be like that. He needs to deal with it himself.”

To say that the little speech Niall offers gets under his skin is an understatement and he knows Niall’s trying to coax him, but he’s choosing the wrong way to do it, “He isn’t some kind of lost cause. He’s my fiancé. It’s not something he can deal with himself Niall. He can’t take care of himself if he’s having a fucking epileptic fit on the floor! He’s sick. He has a disorder. When I first got with him I understood what I was getting myself into. He needs my help.”

“Louis, I didn’t mean for it to come across like that. I admit I sounded insensitive, but honest, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that.”

“Everyone wants to act like I’m some bloody superhero when all I’m doing is taking care of my fiancé. That’s what a relationship is. He’s done so much for me in the time I’ve known him. If I couldn’t do this, I wouldn’t be able to call myself a man. Do you understand how many people have shit on him his entire life because he has epilepsy? Something he can’t fucking control. Have you seen twitter since the statement was released? People are sick fucks. I’m not about to sit here and let you patronize him.” He shuts his eyes tightly and takes a deep breath, rubbing his forehead as he tries to settle down.

“I’m really sorry Louis.”

“I’ll talk to you later. I’ll send you a text. If Liam or Zayn ask about anything, tell them I’ll send them texts later.” He manages to say before hanging up. He tosses his phone onto the chair beside him.

He knows Niall didn’t mean any harm. He understands where Niall’s coming from, but he has to stand up for Harry. He remembers Harry telling him back on X-Factor, after he had first told Louis about his epilepsy, that all through secondary school hardly anyone wanted to be friends with him because no one wanted to be handed the responsibility. Louis had been the first one Harry told in the house and he trusted him not to say anything. He never did.

Louis also remembers that before he ever had to take care of Harry, Harry always took care of him. When he didn’t have the confidence and wanted to quit Harry was always the one to tell him that he _was_ good enough and they would be terrible without him. When Louis was homesick Harry had gone behind his back and arranged for his mum and sisters to come out. When Louis got caught up in the hate of it all Harry was always his shoulder to cry on.

It isn’t as one-sided as everyone wants to believe. Harry loves Louis just as much as Louis loves Harry they both have different ways expressing it is all.

Louis feels like it takes ages for Dr. Richards to come back with Harry, but they do come back in time. Harry moves into the seat beside Louis rather than the examining one. He leans into Louis and presses his face into his shoulder without a word.

“How does everything look?” Louis asks.

“I took a sample of his blood and sent it to the lab. I’ll get the results in a couple days,” She sits back down on the stool. “As for the MRI, I’ve seen the films and I’m having the radiologist take a look at them. I need to get the written report before I decide for myself.”

Louis nods, “How long will that take?” He moves his hand to rest on Harry’s back.

“It depends. I could have it in a few hours or a few days, but from what I saw during the scan everything looks normal.  In the cerebrum it looked like the parietal lobe is still the only part being majorly affected. As I’ve explained to you before parietal seizures often affect other lobes of the brain, in Harry’s case his frontal and occipital lobes are affected as well as the parietal lobes. The parietal lobes are responsible for the loss of body control and loss of sensory. The frontal lobes deal with speech and mood whereas the occipital lobe deals with eye-related symptoms.” 

Louis rubs Harry’s back as he carefully listens, “So why do you believe there’s been a sudden shift in his seizure activity?”

“Honestly, there are multiple factors that could be the reason. It’s possible his medication isn’t strong enough. It’s also possible that his seizures have become uncontrollable and that medicine is worsening it which wouldn’t be uncommon. The statistics show that one third of people diagnosed with epilepsy aren’t able to control their seizures. It wouldn’t be surprising to me. The amount of times his medication has changed shows his resistance to pills. Other possibilities would be another lobe is being affected; it’s possible that I looked over it. The truth of the matter Louis is we won’t know until I get the results,” she sighs. “The good news is there aren’t traces of tumors or obstructions. We’d be very concerned if there was.”

“If his seizures are uncontrollable what will happen?”

Harry doesn’t say a word as the two of them speak as though he’s scared to say anything. He buries his face further into Louis.

“I can’t say for sure. There aren’t many options. Either he will have to live with it or have surgery.”

Harry’s head peeks up at that point. “Surgery?” He asks. “Like brain surgery? What are the risks? The possible outcomes?”

“Harry you’re not having brain surgery.” Louis says.

Dr. Richards looks between the two of them, “Well, yes, brain surgery. They would remove the part of the lobe causing the problems. There is 50% to 80% clearance rate if it goes successful. There are always risks though; it’s possible that it won’t work.”

Louis repeats, “Harry you are _not_ having brain surgery.”

Harry sits up, so he’s no longer leaning on Louis, “How long would I be on bed rest?”

“About six weeks.” Dr. Richards says and she looks towards Louis who appears extremely irritated. She quickly adds in, “But we don’t know if you’ll even need to think about having it yet. There’s nothing left to be said here. I’ll call you in a few days when I have all the results. It’s been a pleasure as always.” She smiles at them before curtly exiting the room in a hurry.

“Harry, look at me,” Louis spits out. “I’m not letting you have brain surgery. There are too many risks. What if they mess up and you end up a human vegetable huh? You have a career and a family to think about. “

Harry stands up, “It isn’t your decision.” He begins to walk out of the hospital room, but Louis stands up, catches his wrist, and yanks him backwards which forces him to stumble.

“Oh the hell it isn’t,” He locks eyes with Harry. “Listen to me. I am not letting people poke around in your brain. They’re going to cut part of your brain out if you choose to have that! What if you need that part?”

“They’re trained professionals!” Harry shouts. “That part of my brain doesn’t work right anyways! What the hell does it matter Louis? I don’t even know if I’m having it. Quit being so inconsiderate.”

“ _I’m_ inconsiderate? Me? All I do is try to take care of you and help you. You’re fucking ungrateful!”

Harry jerks his arm back from Louis. He hardly ever fights back when they argue, but when he does it’s not good. “ _Fuck you_! I’m not ungrateful.”

“All I do for you and I give my opinion once and you lose your mind. God, you’re making me sick! Get away from me.”

“All _you_ do for me?”

“See you’re ungrateful! I slave over you every day.”

“You haven’t done shit for me in the past few weeks. You’ve been off with Stan.”

“And you’ve been in L.A. What the fuck did you want me to do? My life doesn’t revolve around you. It isn’t always about you. I need to have fun once and a while. I didn’t want to sit around worrying about you the whole time. And _another_ thing, don’t bring Stan into this. Get away from me.”

Harry huffs, “I didn’t do anything! I didn’t say what you wanted to hear so now you’re being a giant baby about it. I’m _shocked_.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Louis snaps.

“I meant what I said. If something doesn’t go your way you turn into a huge dickhead! You know, I’m going to do what I want. I don’t care what you think about it. I don’t care anymore. _Don’t_ worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

Louis scoffs, “Don’t lie to yourself. You _can’t_ take of yourself. That’s the funniest joke I’ve ever heard. You’re helpless, absolutely helpless.” Louis laughs. “Do you honestly think I want to be having this conversation right now? I don’t want you to have that surgery. That’s the end of it.”

“If it’s an option, I’m having it. It’s my decision. You shouldn’t have even come today if all you’re going to do is yell at me!”

The next words fall out of Louis’s mouth before he can stop them, “Do you think I want to be with someone like you Harry? It’s stressful. I hate it!”

He prays Harry didn’t catch them, but he knows he did.

Harry’s expression shifts to one of hurt, “If you don’t want to be with someone like me then why are you even still around? Do you honestly think I want to be like this? Do you think I want to have seizures and go through pain? Do you think I want to forget everything and piss all over myself Louis? Do you?! Do you think I want to be like this? I don’t have a choice, unlike you do. You have a choice to stick around and deal with it. I don’t. I have it, I’ll always have it. I certainly don’t relish in the fact that you have to take care of me. I hate not being able to do anything about it. Fuck yourself. Don’t you _ever_ talk to me like that again.”

“I didn’t mean –“

Harry cuts him off, “It doesn’t matter what you meant! You said it! You fucking said it! What the hell does it matter if my feelings are hurt as long as you get your way? Is that it? What are you trying to say? You can’t take me anymore, so you don’t want me?”

“I didn’t think – I love you, I didn’t mean it. Of course I want to be with you. I didn’t think before I spoke. Baby. I didn’t mean it.”

“Don’t _baby_ me. Of course, you didn’t think, you never fucking do.” Louis watches Harry’s face contort from emotional hurt to an expression of pain, his hand cradles his forehead and he shuts his eyes tightly.

Louis’s infuriated exterior falls on principle. “Harry? What’s wrong?” He reaches up to touch Harry’s face, but Harry jolts back.

“My head hurts from all the yelling. What the hell do you think is wrong? Don’t touch me. I’ll call my sister and have her pick me up. I don’t want to be around you right now.”

“Harry –“

“Louis, go away. Go home.” He shakes his head, tears brimming in his eyes, and he takes in a shaky inhale. He can only stay angry for so long before his emotions shift to resentment and sadness. ”Please just go home. Leave me alone. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not being what you want. Please – just go. _Please_.”

“Harry. I’m – I’m sorry. Let me take you home. You must be tired. I don’t need you falling out in the middle of the doctor’s office. Come on.” He soothes, wrapping his arm around Harry’s waist. “Calm down. Let’s go home.” he whispers, pressing his lips to Harry’s jaw. Harry goes to shove him off but Louis grabs his hand and laces their fingers together. “Let’s go.”

He didn’t mean for things to take a turn for the worst but it isn’t surprising that they did. Now, he’s at a loss for ideas. He isn’t sure how he’s going to fix it. He can't just apologize for saying the things he did. Harry can't just apologize either. Something larger needs to happen and now Louis needs to figure what exactly that something is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFnIBBVWbMw


	6. Chapter 6

It's Monday afternoon when Louis finds the courage to try and speak with Harry. He's taken the past two days to cerebrate and finally come to his senses. He needs to think correspondingly all while managing his impulses. He can't have a repeat of Saturday as it will make the situation at hand much worse.

He doesn't want to upset Harry any more than he has.  He’s tried to hold a discussion with Harry nearly five times already, but every time he attempts to talk to Harry, it’s through the door and Harry’s cried every time Louis initiates conversation, thus making it hard to understand him and worsening the circumstances.

He’s tired of being separated from Harry especially since their usual routine of eating homemade meals together and sleeping together has been tarnished. The couch is beginning to strain his back horridly and he misses cuddling Harry. Before he knows it he’ll be walking around bent over like a tiny old man and shorter than he already unfortunately is.

He knocks on the bedroom door before alternatively clutching onto the knob and twisting it side to side. Unsurprisingly, the door is locked, as it has been for two whole days. As soon as they had arrived home, after a silent car ride, Harry had gone into the house and slammed the bedroom door behind him with no indication of coming back out, consequently leaving Louis to reminisce in the mess he created.

Bruce commences to bark at the door as soon as Louis, again, raps his knuckles against the white, wood-panel door.

Louis is much louder than the dog, therefore able to express his voice and emotion over the sound of the bothersome yelping.

He finds his voice several moments later, "Harry, I want to talk.”

There isn't a replication for the longest time and as Louis goes to reiterate himself, in such a way that the idea Harry hadn't heard him exists, he hears a voice impotently manage, "Leave me alone."

Harry's hasn't left the bedroom once in two days. His sleep might be adequate and he most likely showered, Louis had seen clouds of steam peak from the cracks of the door last night, but he knows for a fact Harry hasn't eaten in two days.

"Harry come on love," Louis sighs, leaning his shoulder into the tan wall adjacent to the door as he waits, subconsciously praying Harry will come open the door for him. "All I want to do is talk."

Harry sniffles in reply, "You're talking to me through the door. Mission accomplished."

"You know that's not what I meant." 

"You don't seem to mean a lot of things you say."

Louis draws in a sharp inhale. He automatically knows what Harry is referencing. He's clearly alluding to Saturday, more concretely the argument that took place in the doctor's office. Everything Louis had uttered came out on impulse, in a fit of rage and frustration. Harry hadn't been heedfully listening to what he had to say about the matter and he wanted his voice to be heard. He had his reasons for being against the surgery; Harry ignored his views, and as a result caused him to communicate without rationalizing.

Even through all the frustration he felt and still feels, he knows that he shouldn't have taken anything out on Harry. He feels a sense of panic fill the pit of his stomach since he isn't sure he knows how to mend the relationship.

The more he processes what took place the more he can't believe he pit Harry's disability against him.

"Can we have a talk? I'm sorry Harry. I am so sorry. Please. I promise I won't yell at you. I just want you to know how sorry I am."

Harry scoffs, "Do you even know why I'm upset or are you trying to manipulate me?"

"Of course I do. The things I said to you were uncalled for. I'm sorry baby." He suddenly forces his voice to soften, he's getting worked up and his tone intensifies when he's overwhelmed. "Please open the door. We need to talk about this."

_"Lou?"_

_Louis had glanced up from his phone and he saw Harry stood by the doorway. Louis was sat on one of the top bunks, he had been in the bedroom by himself until Harry had set foot in there. The other lads had gone out with Cher, Aiden, and some of the other contestants in the X-Factor house._

_"Haz, hey, I reckoned you'd gone with the lads." Louis said with a fond smile, setting his phone face down on the mattress as all of his attention immediately diverted to Harry. Whenever Harry was around Louis always focused solely on him, no matter what he had been doing prior to Harry's presence._

_"I wasn't feeling up to it. You know how crazy everyone gets. I didn't feel like carrying a drunk Niall home," Harry had coerced a smile at him. Louis knew straightaway it was forced, there were no dimples or crinkled eyes evident in the tedious attempt of a grin. He knew what a real Harry Styles smile looked like and what Harry had presented to him was not it. "I think the real question is why aren't you with everyone? You're always up for a few beers and a bit of grinding. Is everything okay?"_

_"Yeah, yeah, I was just texting some friends back home. I'm a bit homesick, as always," he zeroed in on Harry and immediately descried the anxious posture Harry was pushing outwards, patently attempting to appear tranquil. His color was flushed out of his cheeks and he kept fidgeting with his fingers, "Are you okay? You look a bit sickly babe."_

_Louis hadn't known Harry very long at that point, merely a few months, but he understood Harry's typical behavior and he also knew when the littlest thing was off and in that moment something was._

_"I want to talk to you and I think now would be a good time since no one else is in the house. It's serious," Harry drew in a shaky breath. "I just don't know how to go about it."_

_Louis narrowed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at Harry, "It sounds important. Come on up here. Come sit by me. Make yourself comfortable."_

_Harry eyed him hesitantly before he nodded to himself, as if reminding himself everything was going to be okay, and climbed the ladder that lead to the top bunk. He sat down across from Louis and didn't express a thing as he dubiously stared at Louis, almost as if he was waiting for Louis to initiate the conversation._

_Louis gave in rather quickly, nervous because Harry was nervous, Harry hardly ever became like that, "What's going on love?" He asked, concern laced in his gentle tone._

_Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair without replying to Louis's question. It was as if he didn't know what to say._

_The remainder of Louis's mature and calm posture fell instantly, as he promptly came up with the worst possible scenario he could think of, "Are you quitting? Don't tell me you're quitting. You can't quit. If you're not here then -"_

_"I'm not - no," Harry interrupted him, continuing to tug belligerently at the roots of his curls. "I'm not quitting the band. I just - I don't know how to tell you. This was a mistake - sorry. I shouldn't have - god, sorry." He began to crawl back towards the ladder._

_Louis clasped his hand around Harry's wrist before he could make a mad dash for it, "Calm down babe," Louis gradually moved closer to him while he tugged Harry in his direction until they met half way and were proximately face to face. He reached forward and seized Harry's hand. He gently laced their fingers together as he pulled it away from Harry's hair. "You're scaring me here. What's wrong?"_

_They weren't together yet though Louis had desperately wanted them to be. He felt as though Harry wanted the same, but neither of them knew how to go about it. He had never been with a boy before, but he recalled Harry telling him about the boyfriend he had in secondary school. When he looked at Harry all he could feel was a warm surge of self-proclaimed joy. He wanted Harry. Harry was the sweetest and most modest person he had ever met._

_"I - um, I don't know how to tell you." Harry repeated and he shut his eyes tightly, drawing in an unnerving, shaky inhale._

_Louis could sense the adrenaline and trepidation coursing it's way through his veins. "Look at me. Haz. Harry look at me." He whispered and Harry gradually fluttered his eyelids back open. Louis smiled at the effulgent green irises that stared back at him. "Take a deep breath and calm down. Whatever it is you can tell me. I'm not here to judge or get irate. Tell me love. It's okay."_

_Harry opened his mouth to speak only to freeze and clamp his lips shut again. A quiet atmosphere filled the space between the two of them for virtually two minutes. Harry watched Louis closely as Louis patiently stared back at him, nodding to offer encouragement. He only possessed this sort of patience for Harry and no one else, not even his mum or sisters._

_Harry swallowed, "I - um, I - well, I'm - I'm disabled Louis."_

_"You're -" Louis paused. "I don't understand. You don't look disabled." He reposed his absently forgotten hand to rest against Harry's cheek. His thumb gently caressed Harry's cheekbone._

_"Um - well that's because - it's - it's not a physical disability."_

_"I still don't understand Harry. Isn’t that what a disability is? I’m confused."_

_"I um, well, I have - I have epilepsy Louis."_

_Louis had heard the term before, between forms of television and his mother who happened to be a nurse it was practically impossible not to, but he didn't know precisely what it meant. He didn't let Harry's confession faze him even if he was initially shocked by it. He wasn't going to make Harry feel insecure or as though he made a mistake by confiding in him. "That's, like, what is that exactly?"_

_"I have seizures."_

_"Oh. You - you have seizures?”_

_“Sometimes, but, but not like all the time, not like every day. Just sometimes when my medication isn't working properly or I forget to take it," Harry ranted, trying to make the impact less significant. "It's not - I - I don't have them often."_

_Louis shook his head as he tried to keep up with Harry. That was the fastest he had ever spoken and the fact it was a confusing subject didn’t help. "Hey, hey. Slow down. Deep breath. Calm down. It's okay. Babe, it's okay, I understand. I don’t hate you. I still like you just as much. Talk to me." Louis whispered. "Will you explain epilepsy to me? I've heard about it, but I don't entirely get it."_

_Harry sighed, "Basically, like the nerve activity in my head gets interrupted and when it does it causes a seizure."_

_Louis nodded as he slowly comprehended what Harry was telling him, "Why do you have it?"_

_Harry paused, "They say it's to do with a chemical imbalance in my brain but that's what they say when they don't exactly know. There's no known cause for epilepsy besides, like, head trauma."_

_"How long have you had it for?"_

_"Twelve years."_

_Louis had attempted to outweigh the bad with possible good, "Since you were twelve? That's not so bad."_

_"I wish. No, I've had it for twelve years. Since I was four."_

_"Oh, my god," Louis whispered as he locked eyes with Harry. He tried to gage where Harry was at emotionally. "Since you were four? I can't believe that."_

_"Yeah, it sucks. It's rough. I wonder what life would be like without it, but it is what it is." Louis arched an eyebrow at that. It was an interesting saying; it would make a good song lyric or perhaps a tattoo._

_Louis remained silent for a few moments until he wanted the answer to his reoccurring question, "What would I do if you ever had a seizure when you were with me?"_

_Harry looked displeased to answer, "Well, if I ever seize for over three minutes you have to call an ambulance. They say that I should be on my side because of - yeah, I should be on my side and my head needs to be cushioned. I can tell you more of the medical predicated stuff later. There's not much to it." Harry looked down. "It's just rough."_

_Louis moved forward expeditiously and he securely wrapped his arms around Harry. "It's okay Haz, I'll always take care of you. You're my best friend." Louis whispered. "I love you. I'm happy you were honest with me."_

_"I love you too, Lou, so much," Harry buried his face in Louis's neck. "Thank you for understanding. No one ever does."_

_"I'll always understand."_

Louis sighs as nothing has changed within the last couple minutes. The door is still locked and he's almost positive Harry is still lying in bed; he doesn't hear him shuffling across the floorboards. "Harry, unlock the door. If you let me in and you let me speak you can kick me right back out. Please open the door. Please, babe?"

He doesn't discern anything in replication. A short-lived impulse of busting the door down passes his mind and he realizes that it doesn't sound too deplorable, but he opts not to act on it.

"Harry -"

The door is thrust open, but Harry's stood behind it. Louis watches as he sulks back to bed and lays down on the mattress. "You wanted to talk. Talk. Don't waste my time." Harry expresses, monotonously, locking eyes with him.

He looks exhausted which is confusing; Louis thought for sure he'd been sleeping the past two days. He's scarcely pale and a bit shaky, but Louis understands it's because an ounce of food hasn't touched Harry's stomach since Saturday afternoon. His eye looks a tad better. It's not as swollen and the bruise is beginning to fade to yellow and green.

Now, that he has the opportunity to speak freely, Louis doesn't know where to begin or what to express, but he commences speaking anyways, hoping what he's saying makes sense, "I'm sorry for what I said on Saturday."

Harry scoffs, "That's it? I don't think you understand. You mocked me and told me I was helpless and then you used my disability against me and practically told me you didn't want me and you felt obligated to be around me," Harry shakes his head and looks off to the side. "I'm not helpless. I'm far from helpless. I thought you, out of anyone, would understand."

"I know, babe, I know. I don't know why I said what I said."

"The fact that you think I'm helpless really hurts. I've tried for seventeen years to appear independent and you managed to take all of that way as soon as you opened your big, fat mouth."

Louis knows about Harry's struggle with his self-confidence. He used to be a lot more insecure about everything from his appearance to the way he spoke to his epilepsy. There were times where he would come to Louis in the middle of the night, even before they were together, whether they were on the bus or in a hotel, crying and he'd lay down with Louis. Louis would wake up as soon as the bed dipped and he would immediately begin to sweet talk Harry and run his fingers through his hair. Harry would gradually calm down and fall asleep against him in a matter of minutes.

It was very much the same with Louis. Louis was getting all types of hate on social media for how his vocals sounded and his attire. He never got as worked up as Harry did, but he'd still leak a few tears here and there. Harry was and is always around to help soothe him out of being upset because "Superheros are human too and they're allowed to get upset, Lou. You can't always be the strong one.".

"I don't think you're helpless, Haz." Louis steps closer to the bed. "I shouldn't have said that. You're not helpless. I know you can take care of yourself."

"Everyone who knows I have epilepsy, which is mostly everyone at this point, doesn't believe that I can. Nobody does," Harry glances back at Louis. "Do you honestly think anyone - even the boys believe that I'm worth your time? I know I'm not worthy enough for you and I just - I never expected for the same idea to come from your mouth I guess."

"Why wouldn't you be worth my time? I love you Harry. If you think that I was trying to get at that on Saturday then I've genuinely messed up. I don't know what else to say other than I'm sorry for making you feel that way."

Harry ostensibly ignores everything Louis has to say, but one thing, "Why would I be worth your time? I'm helpless aren't I? I stress you out and I make life hard for you. You're right. Why would you want someone like me Lou? Why do you?"

"I want someone like you because you're genuine," Louis sits down on the bed contiguous to Harry. Harry commences to shift away but Louis catches his wrist and doesn't sanction him to move. "I want someone like you because you've been through a lot and because of that you don't take anything for granted. I want someone like you because you're beautiful." Louis reaches up and touches Harry's cheek.

Harry flushes slightly and he glances down, "I'm beautiful." He repeats as though he doesn't believe it.

Louis nods and he gently reposes his hand underneath Harry's chin, gently hoisting his head up. "You are beautiful."

Harry's eyes begin to water and he shakes his head, moving his hand on top of Louis's and pushing it away, "I'm not beautiful. You're just saying that."

"I'm not talking about on the outside, albeit you are stunning. I'm talking about on the inside. You're the most beautiful person I've ever had the opportunity to meet. You have to believe me Harry, I'm sorry I hurt you and I understand why you're upset -"

"You're complimenting me to take away from what you did," Harry's voice cracks in the middle of his sentence. It's raw emotion at its worst. "All the sweet things you say are intended as much as the nasty things. You don't understand. You keep saying you do but you never will. I know it's hard for you Louis. I know, but you don't have a clue how hard it is for me. It's stressful for you, it's even more stressful for me. I know you have good intentions babe, but you'll never understand what the pain I feel is like or how the mortification feels. I want to be normal." Harry whispers.

Louis laughs quietly, "Harry, you've never been normal a day in your life." He removes his hand from Harry's cheek and he touches the side of Harry's neck. He pulls at the two chains Harry has around his neck. He tugs the first one up, revealing Harry's cross pendant and the little Star of David. He then tweaks the second chain and he holds the dog tag pendant in his hand. His thumb runs over the deep engravings carved into the smooth metallic surface.

**_Harry E. Styles_ **

**_Seizure Disorder_ **

**_Louis Tomlinson_ **

**_(020) 7645 5924_ **

_"What's this Haz?" Louis had asked one night, holding the small necklace pendant between his thumb and index finger, as they laid together on the top of one of the bunk beds. They had blankets pulled up over the two of them and Harry rested his head on Louis's chest. He was slowly beginning to fall asleep, but Louis's voice startled him completely awake. He glanced up at what Louis had his eyes focused on._

_"Oh that? It's my medical alert necklace." Harry whispered, shifting against to Louis, he was then laying on his side as his head remained on Louis's chest._

_Louis asked, after feeling the etchings in the otherwise smooth surface. "What does the writing say?"_

_"My name, what's wrong with me, mums name, her phone number in case something were to happen."_

_"I wish you wouldn't refer to it like that." Louis moved his hand up to the back of Harry's head and he ran his fingers through the mass of curls._

_"Refer to what like what?"_

_Louis sighed, "Well, like, there's nothing wrong with you. Like - yeah, you have a disorder, but it doesn't make you any less of a person love."_

_"I think you might actually be the first person to ever tell me that."_

_Louis frowned, "It's the truth though. Your illness doesn't define you, you define yourself." he paused. "Will your mums contact information always be on there?"_

_"No. Once I turn eighteen it can be changed to anyone I'd like. Who knows, it could be you one day." Harry yawned._

_Louis didn't take it as a joke; instead he nodded, "Yeah. It could be, couldn't it? I wouldn't mind."_

_Harry smiled and burrowed himself further into Louis's side. "You're too good to me."_

_"Not even close. You deserve the world."_

"I don't understand why you always play with that thing. All it’s good for is awful memories." Harry proceeds to usher Louis's hand away, but Louis only tightens his grip on the pendant, clenching the cold pendant in his fist.

"It reminds me of good times when I look at it. Remember when you got it changed to my name?"

Harry sighs, "I still don't understand why you were so eager."

"It made me feel responsible. It made me feel like I was entirely yours."

Harry can't fight the grin that surfaces, "Trust me, you were entirely mine the day I met you."

Louis knows Harry has trouble staying mad at him and he does in fact deserve any form of vexation Harry feels towards him, but he additionally wants to please Harry and make him happy, it's easier to accomplish that when Harry is joyous and not hating him in silence.

"I know, but this made everything a bit more real for me." He releases the pendant and allows it to swing back and rest against Harry's chest.

"I'm still mad at you." Harry whispers. "But I forgive you."

Louis smiles softly, "Thank you." He sighs. "I love you Harry."

"I love you too," He pauses, "Can we talk about that surgery now?"

Louis hesitates, recalling how they tried to discuss it last time and it blew up into something that it shouldn't have. "How about we don't interrupt each other? That might make things a bit easier." Harry suggests and he shifts back on the bed to lie down.

"Can I go first?"

"Of course Lou." Harry sits up slightly and he peers curiously at Louis, waiting patiently for him to begin.

Louis nods, "I read up on that surgery. Did you know that it's considered a lobotomy and they're going to keep you awake during it? There's no anesthesia administered. That's really frightening Harry." He decides to lie down on Harry, situating his head and neck on top of Harry's chest.

"But it would be worth it. If I have it, it might mean I only have a seizure every few years or maybe it would cure it entirely. We would never have to worry again."

"Would it be worth it? There's a possibility it doesn't work out Harry. It's not even a sure thing. We don't even know if you'll need to have it. You're getting yourself worked up over this and it might not even be a sure thing."

Harry sighs, running his hand through Louis's soft, brunet hair, "If I do have an option to have it, we do need to sort it out."

"I understand," Louis swallows. "I understand why you want to have it, but brain surgery is serious. Think about it from my standpoint. I'm your fiancée and there's a possibility of you going in to have that surgery and not coming back out like yourself, the Harry I know."

"They're professionals Louis. Doctors know what they're doing. I trust them. You should as well."

He leans into the touch of Harry's hand. "I know I should but, but I'm scared Harry," he finally admits. "I don't want to lose you. You know I love you no matter what and even if you decide to have it I'll still love you. All I'm saying, personally, is it wouldn't be my immediate decision. I would put more thought into it."

"I don't know what else to do. I know this is hard for you too . I don't want it to be and - and I don't want you to feel like you owe me anything, so -"

Louis interrupts him, "Let me say this, if I didn't want to be with you I wouldn't be Harry. I don't feel obligated to be in this relationship. I love you. I'll say it until you understand that I've stuck around because I absolutely adore you. I've loved you since I was eighteen; nothing's going to change how I feel." He listens to Harry's rhythmic breathing and allows a soft expression to cross his features. "And I don't mind taking care of you either. What was said on Saturday shouldn't have been said. Of course, I want to be with someone like you."

"I can't imagine how hard it must be for you."

"Yes you can. It's hard on you too Harry, I know, you don't feel well a lot of the time and you're in pain. I know baby. I don't want to make this a competition. It's stressful on both sides, leave it at that. I only want what's best for you."

Harry nods, "What do you think I should do then?"

"I think you should wait until Dr. Richard calls and we'll go in and listen to what she has to say. She'll list your options and we'll collectively decide. I'd like to have a say in whether my fiancée gets a portion of his brain cut out. I think your mum would like her opinion considered as well. I don't want you deciding on something like this alone."

"I understand."

"You heard Dr. Richards, six weeks of bed rest, followed by who knows what else. We'll have to reschedule part of the tour. Do you really want to be laid up in bed for a month and a half?"

"I mean - no, I guess not. I don't see what other options we have. If medication won't help anymore, how will I continue to be in One Direction?"

"What do you mean?"

Louis never saw it as an issue before, really. But now he could see where Harry was coming from and Harry had a point. 

"I don't want to have fits in front of the fans and I don't want to be known as _that boy band member with epilepsy_."

Louis didn't want Harry to have constant seizures in front of fans either, but he won't worry Harry with his concerns, "You won't be. You've been in this for five years. People won't forget all you've done."

"Lou, think about it, honestly. You can't tell me that people won't define me by epilepsy. They've done it my entire life. Why would anything change now, especially considering our fame?"

"I've never put your disability before you Harry." Louis argued, sitting up to face Harry. "Even when you had your first seizure in front of me, it didn't change how I felt."

_Louis hummed, "See, at least you did something you liked. I got sacked from all the jobs I ever had because I slacked off."_

_"You don't have the attention span for a proper job," Harry concurred. "I liked working in the bakery. The employees and the clientele were nice. I miss it."_

_Louis threw his head back as he laughed. He had his back turned to Harry as he dug through the cupboards for angel hair pasta. Harry had promised to make pasta for dinner. Nobody made better pasta than Harry, he had his own recipe for sauce. If all Louis had to accumulate the ingredients and watch he'd be more than willing to do that. "I don't know if working in a bakery is exactly comparable to touring arenas."_

_The two of them had recently bought a flat in north London together. Louis was still unsure how he convinced Anne to allow her sixteen year old son to live with him, but he would never complain because he had his boyfriend all to himself. He was still surprised his own mum was okay with him suddenly finding an attraction in the same gender. She had clapped her hand over her mouth to conceal a squeal when Louis confessed his affection towards Harry. It wasn't the reaction he expected at all, but, again, he wasn't going to complain._

_"I suppose," Harry shrugged at him, "Do you reckon we'll ever have our own stadium tour Lou?"_

_"Think positive Harold, of course we will, our band is sick. Who wouldn't like us?" He smugly said with blithesome intentions. "If we don't make it in the music industry then you can go crawling back to your little bakery job." He laughed at his own words._

_"I'll open my own bakery."_

_Louis laughed, "Yeah? What do you reckon you'll sell? If it's health foods then you're on your own. I told you before Harry the whole point of dessert is to be unhealthy." He found the box of pasta, stood on his tip toes, and retrieved it, placing it on the counter top in front of him._

_"That's not true. You can enjoy healthy food. What do you think I mix in with the pasta sauce?"_

_"I don't know," Louis' face contorted and a frown etched a path on his lips, "Don't tell me. I'll never eat again."_

_"Seriously? Babe, you don't even know how nutritiously you've been eating. I put all sorts of vegetables in your food. Broccoli, zucchini, asparagus, green beans, peas."_

_Harry had always been a 'health nut'. He ate fruit and vegetables perpetually, unlike Louis. He scarcely ever ate fast food , unlike Louis. He exercised often, unlike Louis. They were always polar opposites in every way possible, but it's why it always worked so well._

_"Quit talking Harry." Louis shook his head. "I'm never eating anything you make again."_

_Harry smiled, "So, I'm just making pasta for myself tonight?"_

_Louis hesitated and he thought it over for a brief second, "Okay, okay, on second thought, I'm starving. I'll eat." Louis said expeditiously as though Harry was seriously not going to feed him._

_"You're funny. Put a pan of water on, tosser."_

_Louis rolled his eyes, "Yes sir," He bent down as he scavenged through the cupboards beneath the counter for a well sized pan. He could feel Harry's eyes boring into him and he could virtually imagine the fond look on Harry's face. "Might as well take a picture. It'll last longer."_

_"Lou. Those pants are way too tight. I'm afraid your ass is going to pop the seam." Harry laughed._

_Louis masked his humor with mock hurt, "Hey, don't make fun of me. That isn't nice."_

_"I'm only stating the truth."_

_"You have no concern for anyone else's feelings. That's awfully rude Harry. I'm going to make you suffer. No Louis for you tonight." Louis smirked, biting down on his inner lower lip._

_Harry hadn't replied only managed a scoff in return._

_The entire atmosphere of the room shifted quickly, quick enough that Louis hadn't even processed how strange everything started to become._

_It was silent for nearly another minute, aside from the cacophony Louis created from digging in the cupboard of pans._

_Harry's voice soon peaked through, in a urgent tone of voice, "Louis. Louis. Lou."_

_Louis didn't catch the exigency as he perpetuated to clatter pans together, unable to make out any emotion behind Harry's timbre, "Yes master? Is there something else I can do for you?" He teased._

_"Louis - I - I don't," Harry clutched onto the counter to keep himself upright. It was then Louis found the fear in Harry's voice. "Louis, I don't feel well."_

_He paused, releasing the grip he had on a fry pan and he gradually found himself elevating to a standing position._

_Harry squeaked out, "Louis."_

_There were no more words exchanged and the silence was followed by a thud._

_"Haz?" Louis whipped his head around and his heart slammed up into his throat. "Oh - oh my god." He stuttered._

_He kept endeavoring to make himself believe that what was exhibited in front of him was his imagination. He shut his eyes, clenched his hands down at his sides, he had to be dreaming._

_He told himself over and over that Harry didn't just collapse on the floor, Harry wasn't still, Harry's chest was moving normally._

_He opened his eyes to find that, indeed, it wasn't a dream and Harry had collapsed on the floor, Harry was still, Harry's chest wasn't moving normally._

_Everything had transpired so expeditiously he couldn't comprehend it. He wasn't able to comprehend it even as Harry's fingers commenced to twitch in aberrant intervals. He wasn't able to apprehend it when Harry's tremors had transformed into withering and whimpering. He wasn't even able to interpret it when Harry's withering became plenary frame convulsions, as his body haplessly arched upwards, head and limbs sporadically slamming against the tiled floor._

_He never thought Harry would have a seizure in front of him. He never thought he would perceive Harry trembling and in a abundance of pain. The thing was he didn't know why he never processed those things because he lived with Harry, an epileptic. He was living with an epileptic. He was dating an epileptic and not thinking coerced him to be in a situation he didn't know how to handle._

_He was alarmed and scared. He stood stationary, mouth agape and eyes wide, as he watched Harry seize helplessly on the floor. His feet were grounded into the floor as he tried to think of what to do. He suddenly didn't remember a thing he read or a thing Harry told him. He didn't understand how to avail Harry. His mind had drawn a blank. His heart was beating expeditious and he grimaced each time Harry's head smashed against the floor._

_"Oh god, oh god, okay," he whispered to himself. "Get yourself together Tommo. Help him." He had to remind himself how to walk. He pried himself away from the place he stood, foot by foot, and he neared Harry._

_He found himself letting out a startled noise when he descried Harry's eyes were wide open. He appeared to be in pain. Harry was in pain. His Harry was in pain._

_He noted the saliva accumulating in Harry's mouth and it gradually slipped past his lips dripped down his cheek. He debated calling an ambulance. He didn't know what to do._

_The back of his eyes prickled with fresh tears as he watched Harry. Don't cry Tommo, don't cry, he told himself. He gradually dropped down to his knees. His hand hesitated above Harry's chest, unsure if he could come into contact with Harry or if touching was going to hurt him more._

_He withdrew his hand back and he covered his mouth, abstaining any noises endeavoring to surface, though diminutive whimpers emitted their way from between his lips. He didn't know what to do. Tears fell down his cheeks as he nervously eyed Harry._

_"Oh god Harry. Can you - how do I? Please stop. Baby, please stop. You're scaring me." Louis beseeched against his palm, "I don't know what to do. Please stop doing that. Stop. Harry, Haz, please stop shaking. Baby, please, please." Louis impotently murmured. He dropped his hand from his lips and he gradually touched Harry's chest only to once again withdraw it when he felt the trembling against his palm._

_He locked eyes with Harry's unfocused pupils for a brief second afore feeling a phantom of pain run up his spine. He couldn't stomach seeing Harry in such a state, it was too hard. He didn't want to see Harry like that._

_He looked up at the ceiling, muttered a quiet plea to himself and he jeopardized another glance at Harry to find that the younger boy's thrashing was gradually descending in intensity._

_"Oh god - um, okay, okay," He muttered and he looked around, spotting his cell phone sitting on the kitchen counter. He got up and retrieved it before shakily ringing Anne._

_The ringer was off the hook moments later and Anne saccharinely hummed, "Hello Louis. How are you sweetheart?"_

_"Uh - Anne? Anne, Harry just - he had a seizure, I think. What do I - what can I do?" He asked as he kept a close eye on Harry from where he stood._

_"Oh goodness," Her voice shifted in tone, suddenly becoming much more stern and solemn. "Is he on his side? You need to get him on his side if he isn't." She authoritatively mandated._

_Louis listened meticulously as he neared Harry. He leaned down, taking hold of Harry's shoulders, and he hauled Harry onto his side with facileness. He flinched at the marginal shaking that still ran through Harry's body._

_"Is he on his side?_

_Louis swallowed, "Yeah. Yeah he is."_

_"Is he bleeding? Did he hit his head?"_

_"He isn't bleeding, but he has a few bumps on his forehead."_

_"That's okay. That's okay." She sounded nervous. "He'll be okay. Did the seizure last for more than three minutes?"_

_"No - I uh - maybe a minute or so?" Louis whispered. "Oh god. Is he - will he come to?"_

_"Yes. Take a deep breath Louis. It's okay. I know it's scary, but you're doing great. I need you to be there when he wakes up. He'll be disorientated and he might not remember who you are, but you need to gently handle him. Tell him it's okay." Anne sighed. "He's probably wet himself as well. You need to tell him everything's okay. Calm him down."_

_"Okay." Louis gradually got back down onto his knees and he gently moved his hand to cup the side of Harry's face. He gently caressed his thumb over Harry's cheek._

_Harry's breathing was the only dominate noise in the room. It was loud and more saliva emerged with every exhale. His eyes were remained unfocused, but he shifted against Louis' hand after multiple strokes were administered to his cheek._

_"Love? Harry?" Louis whispered._

_Anne sighed on the other line,"Easy Louis. Don't startle him."_

_Louis became vexed and bemused suddenly, he could handle it himself, he didn't need anything else distracting him from Harry, "I'll ring you if I need anything else. Bye Anne." He hung up, without waiting for her reply, and slid his phone to the side._

_Harry blinked a few times before his eyes came back into focus and he gave a weak attempt to sit up._

_Louis placed his hand in the center of his chest, gently leading him back to lay down on the floor, "No babe. Stay still. Take a minute. It's alright." Louis whispered and Harry watched him in mystification. His eyebrows knitted together and his eyes filled with tears. "Hey. What's wrong?" he moved closer and Harry let out a whimper as he flinched away. "Haz, it's me. It's Louis. Your boyfriend remember baby? It's okay. It's okay. Look at me love. It's me." He promised._

_Harry sobbed, "Lou."_

_"Yeah, that's it. Shhh. It's okay." He gently carded his fingers through Harry's hair. "You're okay darling. It's okay. Don't cry baby. Don't cry." He whispered._

_Harry's chest heaved with every exhale, "I don't know - where are we?"_

_"Kitchen, sweetheart. You had a seizure."_

_Harry shook his head, "N-no. No, I didn't," he tried to find the vigor in his voice. He was trembling, but from fear, "In front of you?"_

_"Yeah, in front of me." Louis whispered and pressed his lips to Harry's forehead. "It's okay. I've got you now."_

_Harry shook as his emotions took over. "I'm sorry. I understand if you don't - don't want me anymore. That - that must have been - I'm sorry." Harry cried._

_"Baby, please stop crying. It's okay," Louis whispered and he wrenched Harry upwards to him. He wrapped his arms around his shaking frame securely. "It's okay. I understand you a bit more that's all any of today means. It's okay." He verbalized in his ear as he rubbed his back. "I love you, so much. It's all okay. It'll be alright."_

"You're not like anyone else I know. Anyone else would have ran away screaming."

"Not me, never. I'm not like that."

"That's because I'm convinced you're a saint living among everyone else. You’re different than anyone I’ve ever met before."

"I'm a saint? Me?" Louis laughs. "Yeah, sure, you’re delusional."

"You are though. You're so good to me." Harry softly smiles.

Louis nods, “It’s because I love you.” He lies back down beside Harry. “You’re my everything Haz.”

“Really?” Harry’s smile grows wider and more genuine. “I couldn’t ask for someone better in my life. I don’t want to fight with you anymore. It makes me sad.”

“It makes me sad too love. I never meant to hurt you. Those were not my intentions. From here on out, I’ll never say another negative thing.”

Harry laughs, “ _Lou_.”

“Okay, fine.  I’m going to start watching what I say. I’ll be nicer, less bitter. I’m going to be a better person.”

“ _Louis_.”

“What?” He glances at Harry out of the corner of his eyes and the facial expression Harry carries is well worth it all. He playfully rolls his eyes, “Fine. Everyone gets treated the same, but you. You’re my favorite person in the whole wide world.”

Instantaneously, he’s sitting up and climbing on top of Harry. He straddles the younger boy’s torso, leaning down and pressing his lips to Harry’s voluminous ones. He pulls away and their eyes lock, Louis doesn’t think he’s seen Harry appear this relaxed and happy in months. “You’re my princess.”

Harry smiles, showcasing his stunning dimples, and this time _he_ leans up. He presses his forehead to Louis’s and giggles, “You’re my prince.”

Louis pushes him back on the bed and Harry laughs, “I’m going to give you something to show everyone that you’re mine. All mine.”

“I love you!” Harry body shakes with laughter against Louis and Louis can’t fight the smile that spans across his face.

Their lips lock again and Louis rolls his stout body rhythmically against Harry’s elongated one as the kiss intensifies.

It dawns on Louis that his life couldn’t be better and, no, he wouldn’t rather have it any other way.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFnIBBVWbMw


	7. Chapter 7

The room is inordinately sterile and smells like assortment of lemon-scented bleach and rubbing alcohol. It's rather immense; there's room for more than five or six people. There aren't any sizable, dismaying machines. The only medical supplies in sight are blood pressure cuffs and stethoscopes which Louis is unbelievably thankful for. Large machines alarm him and make him recollect worse memories.

Louis apperceives soon after they're lead down a lengthy corridor to an isolated room that they're not in any kind of regular doctor's office, rather it's a room categorically utilized to review X-Rays and scan results.

Currently, it's Thursday, ten in the morning to be more exact, and the only noise dominating the circumventing area are Harry's yawns. He's endeavoring to sound subdued, but instead he's doing the antithesis.

Though, he's unlike Louis in the aspect that albeit he's being scarcely disruptive he is still not proximately as loud as Louis who is currently tapping his feet on the ground and boisterously humming.

Louis is marked in everyone's book as spontaneous and disorderly. He's the loudest drunk out of the boys, even louder when he's high; figuratively busting everyone's eardrums every time they go out to a club or bar, with his pitchy laughs and savage chants.

He has his head reposing against Harry's shoulder, his eyes are shut as though he's meditating as he absorbs Harry's warmth. Harry is always warm. His skin gives off a radiant heat without even remotely being considered clammy.

"Are you tired?" Harry whispers, pressing his cheek to the top of Louis' head. He snakes his arm around Louis' waist and tugs the smaller boy closer.

Louis burrows himself into Harry's side. "Very. The damn dog kept me awake all night with his howling. I think we ought to get him neutered. I bet he’s been flirting with that little poodle on the other side of the wall. I don't want mini Bruce's running around."

"I wouldn't mind puppies. They're quite endearing aren't they? I bet Bruce would be a proud father. I wish _we_ had babies running around."

"Oh god," Louis groans. "Please don't go into your _I want a baby_ rant. I get it Haz. We'll have a baby. We're just not ready yet."

Harry sighs, appearing to sound unbothered, "I wasn't referencing that."

"Yes you were and I promise you, we will have a baby as soon as the time is right. We'll be the best dad's around. I promise."

Dr. Richards slips in moments later with a nurse in baby blue scrubs following shortly behind. Their valued appearance finally gives Louis something to be delectated with, considering he has been sitting with Harry for half an hour, possibly more. The door is shut with facileness abaft them. "Harry, Louis, it's a pleasure to see the both of you again. This is Renee; she's a current university student studying at Kingston. She's majoring in Neurology. She will be sitting in on our conference today as long as the two of you don't mind."

Louis glances towards the short redhead as she seats herself in one of the chairs lined against the opposing wall. She offers a hesitant wave and Louis nods in cognizance.

"Oh. Yeah, that's perfectly fine." Harry insists, offering his effulgent, dimpled smile.

"Good to hear. You'd be surprised at how many people seem to be bothered by it." Dr. Richards smiles softly as she looks between both Louis and Harry.

Louis picks his head up off of Harry's shoulder and sits up straight as he offers an agreement. He realizes that it's time to get down to business. "We all have to start somewhere don't we?"

"That's right," Dr. Richards simply expresses and briefly pauses as she sets a manila envelope down on a nearby counter. She withdraws a sturdy piece of paper. "We're going to take a look at your MRI scans first and then I will give you the prognosis. How are you today Harry? Feeling well?"

Harry pipes up, "I'm doing just fine and yourself?"

"I'm wonderful. Thank you." She takes a seat on a stool positioned in vicinity to the counter. She crosses her legs, one over the other, "Now," Pressing her glasses up to repose on the bridge of her nose, she looks towards an immense white board that doesn't yet exhibit an image. "We're going to take a look at your MRI results Harry. Renee, turn the lights off please."

The lights flicker off seconds later, transforming the room pitch black, until Dr. Richards reaches over and presses a button on the side of the board. The board flashes and remains a visually impairing white color. Renee shuffles over and places the scan results on the board afore returning to her seat.

The images displayed are contiguous to each other, one scan looking as though a picture has been taken at an aerial angle of Harry's brain, as for the other it's a simple side angle.

"Wicked," Louis whispers as the scans and light from the board reflect off of his vibrant eyes. His curiosity has evolved more in the last minute than it has in the last year.

Harry's eyebrows furrow. He doesn't understand what Louis is enticed by and Louis finds it humorlessly evident in his tone, "What is?"

" _Harry_ , that's your brain. That is so cool." Louis shifts to the edge of the chair and he runs his hand over his face as he studies the scans in awe.

"Isn't it? Modern technology is brilliant, if I do say so myself," Dr. Richards glances up from her in depth reading of Harry's file, sets the paper down, and stands up adjacent to the luminescent board. "I've had a chance to review the scans, your medical file, and I've additionally spoken with your past neurologist. And I have to say I'm surprised. Tell me Harry when do you believe the last time you've had an MRI is?"

Louis swallows. Her tone doesn't carry as much facileness and she sounds disappointed with her findings. Louis can suddenly feel his heart slamming against his sternum with every beat and the blood rushes to his ears. He raises and presses his hand to his chest to mask the phantom pain he's feeling.

To say he's scared is a major understatement, he's petrified. The only thought coming to mind, perpetually, is what if she missed something Saturday, the first time she reviewed the scans, and Harry has a tumor. He doesn't want Harry to die. Harry can't die.

It's a horrendous thought that he should definitely not be having right this second, but the cerebration has always occurred to him because there has to be something causing Harry's epilepsy. It's a disorder and disorders don't transpire without a reason. Whether it deals with genetics or injuries or illnesses, disorders are an effect of a cause.

He peers at Harry and automatically can tell by Harry's tense outward posture that he knows something is off with Dr. Richard's tone as well. Harry is often tense and nervous, but never for no reason at all, conventionally before a show or an interview. He shouldn't be apprehensive right now and the fact that he's nervous on top of Louis himself being nervous is definitely not a good sign.

"Uh - I don't know," Harry mumbles as his hand feverishly rubs the back of his neck, "Last spring?" His voice elevates into a question and he glances at Louis out of the corner of his eyes for corroboration.

Louis shrugs in replication. He doesn't have a clue, but he's positive it was not last spring because they would have been on tour. The Where We Are tour was brutal in every way, shape, and form. They hadn't had a lengthy break in between any of the shows. It was continuous with not one single stop, which would definitely expound Harry's seizure after the last show. Taking the amount of stress everyone's body had endured and the lack of sleep experienced into consideration, Louis is still surprised Harry held out that long.

The seizure after Sun Life is the one that commenced it all, Louis is sure. Seizures began to become more frequent at that point. Currently, it's reached a state of exhaustion where Harry's falling out every couple weeks and experiencing cluster seizures.

He had gone from the beginning of 2014 all the way to the cessation of 2014 only encountering three seizures. Compared to now, mid-2015 and undergoing a countless amount of fits. Louis doesn't quite understand what went erroneous in the couple of months between October 2014 and January 2015.

"It's a nice assumption," Dr. Richards offers and she retrieves Harry's file once again, grasping it in her tiny, calloused hands. "But it's indited in my records that you haven't had a scan performed since February 12th 2013. That's over two years, Harry."

Louis shakes his head in dissension, speaking in Harry's defense, "Well, two years ago his epilepsy was under control."

"That may be true, but," Her voice is incriminating as she glances towards Harry. Her vexed hazel eyes lock on his green ones. "When is the last time you've had any sort of scan performed? Including EEG and PET scans, as well."

Harry sheepishly mutters, "I...I don't know."

"I'm not here to make you feel lamentable or embarrassed or anything of the sort. That is not what I'm attempting to do. I'm simply pointing out the fact that a proper scan has not been conducted to ensure your epilepsy has not developed or worsened anymore."

Louis scoffs, beginning to stand up, but Harry catches his wrist and tugs him backwards, in attempt to make him reside in the vacant chair. Louis pulls away from Harry's touch and a soft sigh emits its way from the back of Harry's throat. He rubs his hands over his face.

"He doesn't have cancer or something that needs to consistently be monitored. Frequent scans aren't necessary. If you're suggesting he needs a scan every month then I'm sorry to say that as a physician you're wrong,"

Dr. Richards expeditiously composes herself, limpidly and conspicuously frustrated with Louis as she says through gritted teeth, "Mr. Tomlinson, if you would let me continue, it would be greatly appreciated. I am not here to receive a rise out of you or frustrate you in any way. Please, let me continue."

Harry leans forward and he gently slips his middle and index finger into one of the belt loops on Louis's dark wash jeans. He tugs Louis rearwards, "Take a deep breath. It's okay. Calm down and let her speak baby. Sit down."

Louis groans, muttering a curse under his breath as he sits back down beside Harry. He leans against Harry and crosses his arms over his chest. His visage is soft when he looks up at Harry. "I'm sorry love," he apologizes and he looks back towards Dr. Richards, "My apologies. Please continue, good doctor."

Louis has always been expeditious to frustrate and irk. He is rather narrow-minded, designating he typically feels as though it's his way or no way at all. It's additionally why he comes off as a dick on social media and in interviews. He is not afraid to speak his mind. His quandary is he's a bit too high strong at times. He's been hot-headed for as long as he can recollect and he's surprised Harry was, still is, able to overlook it. Considering Harry is often tranquil and he remotely ever lashes out on anyone Louis is quite a change in atmosphere whenever he's around. Again, it's another miracle of opposites attract, but Louis couldn't possibly be more grateful to have such an astounding partner.

Dr. Richards briefly narrows her eyes at him before placing her congenial façade back on, "Thank you. As I was saying before you don't necessarily need to have scans frequently such as once every month or even every three months. What I am saying is scans every six months or even yearly scans are a brilliant conception because of how quickly neural and electrical activity can and does change. You are twenty one years old and I know it most likely doesn't feel as though you are, but you are still internally developing in different ways. As humans, we never stop developing and changing. It's something to bear in mind."

"I guess I don't understand what you're trying to get at," Louis blurts out. "Are we going to discuss the scans or listen to you ramble on for the remainder of the appointment?"

Harry groans and says under his breath, "So help me Louis."

Renee commences to say, "Sir if you -"

Louis glares towards the redhead, "I don't believe I was speaking with you, firecrotch."

"Renee. I believe bringing you along to this conference in particular was a mistake. Some of our residents' family members are a bit impulsive and therefore hard to contain. Feel in free to step out if you so wish." Dr. Richards offers.

Harry buries his face into his hands. He's mortified. He peers up at Renee and offers her an impuissant smile to which she doesn't return as she rushes out of the room.

"Are you quite through Mr. Tomlinson? I'd like to genuinely begin the conference if you don't mind."

Louis crosses his ankles as he sinks back into the uncomfortable, plastic chair, smirking in gratification, "Go for it darling."

"Louis, knock it off," Harry chastises. "Where is your civilization?"

Harry's appearance of concerned, yet sensible and responsible mother has returned. Louis hasn't perceived it recently. It's good to see that it still exists.

Harry is always the one who scolds the boys for being rude to paparazzi's and interviewers. He believes in finding the good in everyone and treating everyone with respect and dignity.

It's infuriating that someone with such innocent intentions is left with such an awful disease.

"I'm sorry." Louis sighs and physically shuts his mouth.

"As I've been trying to say, your health needs to be your number one priority. I know you've been on tour, but you need to focus primarily on your health right now."

Harry swallows, "With all due respect, I don't exactly have time. I mean, between recording, touring, promotion, and interviews, my head is turning in infinite directions as it is."

That much is true. The boys had a few months in between Where We Are and On The Road Again and it can't even be considered a break. Every one of the boys still had promotion for their own prosperity to take care of as well as promotion as a whole for their incipient album.

Louis was with Harry a short period while he was in Los Angeles before conspiracy became exorbitant and unavoidable. They were coerced to make their separate ways, but they had made a visit to a neurologist in the heart of the city. It was nothing major, a simple change of prescription. The doctor there, Dr. Sebastian, hadn't thought to go in depth anymore. Seeing what they're left with now, he should have.

"I'm telling you, as your doctor, as your advisor, you need to get your health straightened out before you continue on. From my understanding your fame accumulated very rapidly and you haven't had a chance to sort your condition out. I'll help you with some options after we get through this next bit," Dr. Richards looks towards the absently forgotten board displaying the scan results. "I decided on executing an MRI because I wanted to examine the internal structure of your brain. Now, we're going to take a look at your scan results."

"Finally." Louis mutters and earns a deprecating look from Harry. The chairs don't have any arms, sanctioning Louis to press his back into Harry's side. Harry wraps his arm around him and tugs him remotely closer, though it's hardly possible to become any closer.

"As you see in this image, it's a side view of your cerebrum," she gestures to the image on the left. "Here we have the four main components of the cerebrum; the frontal lobe, the parietal lobe, the temporal lobe, and the occipital lobe," she points to each area of the brain as she verbally expresses it's designated name. "As we've discussed before your concrete case of epilepsy mainly effects your parietal lobe, but your frontal lobe, temporal lobe, and occipital lobe are partially effected as well, which is prevalent in epileptics considering the after effects of a seizure."

"I sense a but coming." Louis whispers to himself as he heedfully listens to Dr. Richards exhaustively explain. He would rather have everything expounded exhaustively in lieu of being perplexed and not understanding precisely what's going on.

"Like I believe I said earlier, I've looked through these particular films and your file multiple times for possible answers. I found the answer after some further inspection," She points to the image on the right, this one an aerial view of Harry's cerebrum. "You'll have to look very closely as I explain. Do you see this area right here?" She draws a circle with her finger and then points in the center of the imaginary circle.

Louis doesn't descry anything other than brain, but he nods at her anyways. He squints at where her finger is pointing to, but he still doesn't descry anything outlandish.

"This is located on the temporal lobe."

Harry shakes his head in dubiety, letting his naïveté showcase itself, "Wait. What's on the temporal lobe? I don't see anything."

"This component of the brain is beginning to deteriorate, if you notice this area is scarcely more faded, a different shade of grey, compared to other areas of the temporal lobe."

"Deteriorate? Like fall apart?" Louis asks with unease and mystification.

"Not precisely. This is a complication called Mesial Temporal Sclerosis. It signifies that this area that appears less opaque is where neurons have been loss and scarring of the deepest portion of the temporal lobe has started to take place. If you pay close attention you can see where the abnormal brain tissue lies around the area."

"I guess - I don't understand what exactly any of this means."

Harry could not have said anything more relevant and true to Louis in this moment. Louis doesn't understand a word Dr. Richards is endeavoring to tell them. He eyes her nervously. This means it isn't a tumor, but that's still an immense medical term she's thrown out there and he doesn't know what it signifies.

"Mesial Temporal Sclerosis is scarring that secondarily generalizes epilepsy. It's not the ultimate cause of your epilepsy, but more like a side effect that worsens with every seizure you encounter. Though, it is the cause of your sudden seizure frequency."

"Secondarily generalize? What does that even mean?" Louis asks, sitting up straight as he examines the scans and then Dr. Richards with narrow eyes.

"Well, predicated on symptoms I've gathered from both you and Harry over time. I can tell you both that what he's been lately experiencing are partial seizures that rapidly affect other areas of the brain which lead to intensified tonic clonic seizures otherwise classified as convulsions, spasms, and loss of muscle tone. Secondarily generalizing means seizures start in one area of the brain, but travel to another."

Louis looks Harry and Harry wears the same nervous expression, "Is it serious?"

"For epileptics, no. It can become serious, but if we get it under handle then it will be okay. In research that's been conducted, it's been shown that each seizure seems to worsen it more." She pauses. "If he didn't have epilepsy we'd be concerned, that's sometimes a indicator for Dementia or Alzheimer's disease."

Louis has always been more vocal and he culls now to express that, "Is there a known cause for it?"

Harry's voice appears to be caught in his throat as he hasn't managed to express anything more than a few words. He's scared. He doesn't know precisely what anything means and what options there are or what might possibly happen after this.

"In this case, no. There have been no reported brain injuries or infections. I can't tell you that doing anything different would have fixed the situation at hand because I don't know. It's still something being studied by scientists."

"Did it happen overnight?" Harry conclusively manages, his voice is raw. Louis reaches over and clutches his knee, constricting as if telling him everything will be alright.

"Nothing happens overnight. My thought process has brought me to believe that perhaps one certain seizure caused a small amount scarring and since that point, it's grown to the mass it is now. You have to remember the condition of epilepsy instigates rapid, uncontrolled electrical firing through your nerves and abnormal tissue is not uncommon. Stress is an additional factor, as ridiculous as it may seem, an large amount of stress on the body and mind causes many medical complications."

It's right then Louis knows that the past year or so has been an extravagant amount. The amount of stress they've all been under is astronomical. They've been denied breaks, which is most likely legitimately against the law. Their management hasn't taken proper care of them and instead manipulated them like puppets. They need to get under Azoff's control soon.

Louis sighs, running a hand through his hair, "Well how do you know it's not simply abnormal tissue rather than whatever you're talking about?"

"Mesial Temporal Sclerosis," she reiterates. "Well, typically abnormal tissue doesn't happen for no reason at all. The abnormal tissue is what actually made me look farther in depth on his scans and through the tissue I noticed the scarring."

Harry swallows and his hands are trembling, his voice is shaking, "What are the options to fix it then?"

Louis reaches over, removes his hand from Harry's knee, and takes one of Harry's hands in his own instead, lacing their fingers. "Shh, it's okay. Calm down." He whispers, constricting his hand in reassurance.

All Louis can hope is surgery is not one of the options. Harry has perpetuated to be adamant about retaining it, but his conception that he might not have a seizure again seems to outweigh the possibly that he could become a vegetable. It isn't that Louis doesn't trust the doctors either. It's more of there's a marginal chance that something will go wrong and Louis is pessimistic. It's not a good pairing.

"One of the options is to begin with a new prescribed anticonvulsant medication, but I can't ascertain that they will actually work for you, but we won't know if we don't try, I suppose," she sighs. "The second option is to undergo a procedure."

Louis closes his eyes tightly and he draws in a sharp inhale, "What is the procedure for exactly?" He doesn't expect Harry's grip on his hand to tighten. He thought Harry would be happy about the option of the surgery, but now everything is a bit more real and harder to grasp.

"It's called temporal lobotomy. It would climate his seizures. The part of the brain containing the point at which the partial seizures start is removed. The best outcome for the surgery happens in patients with mesial temporal sclerosis on only one side of the brain, which is Harry's case. The scarring is found only on the left side of the lobe as shown here." She points to the image. "This is the most common surgery for patients dealing with complications in the temporal lobe. It has a high rate of eliminating that type of seizure and is also associated with a low incidence of significant new neurological impairments."

"Would I still have epilepsy?" Harry asks, meekly.

"Yes. The removal of the complication is not going to cure your epilepsy, since as doctors we don't yet know what the cause for it is, but it will help your frequency rate. It'll lower your seizure activity to somewhere estimated around 60 percent, which is a good number and usually means you'd encounter seizures maybe a few times a year," She says. "Honestly, in my opinion, it's a very good option. Compared to where your condition has developed now, I believe that it would significantly help you."

Louis glances at Harry and then back at Dr. Richards, "What happens during the procedure?"

"I was just getting to that," She smiles, feeling the blatant anxiety in the room, "The beginning of the procedure is a craniotomy, which means an incision into the skull is made. You'll be under general anesthesia for this part of the procedure. Part of the skull is removed and then a section of the tough membrane is pulled back. This creates a window for us to work. Then you'll be put into a _twilight state_ , meaning you'll be awake but under sedation. We do this so we avoid areas responsible for vital functions. You'll be asked to count, identify pictures, and perform other tasks during the procedure. Once the abnormal tissue is removed everything is fixed back into place and you'll be stitched up."

"What does recovery time look like?" Louis asks.

He knows the answer is bound to not impress or please him. He doesn't know what they're going to do. He can't see management honestly allowing them to push the next leg of the tour back. He can't even seeing them agreeing to Harry having the procedure. World war three is going to happen at headquarters, but if Harry truly needs this to help him then he's going to have it. His health is more important than the band.

Dr. Richards adjusts her ponytail again, "After the surgery, it's generally a five day to two week stay in the hospital, depending on how he feels following the operation. This is followed by a six to eight week resting period. He'll be able to continue doing normal activities after that period, but it's a crucial time that needs to be strictly understood. I also suggest once he's well enough to continue tour that a request is made for an on call doctor or a health team to monitor him. He'll be put back on anticonvulsants right after the surgery. He needs to stay on them post-surgery. Also, the hair over the incision scar will grow back in that time."

Louis can't believe any of this. Harry having brain surgery is some type of sick joke. It has to be. "What are the risks? What if you screw up and he -"

Dr. Richards cuts him off, "I assure you. This type of procedure is rather simple as well as common. The possible risks are those found in any surgery, infection and bleeding, as well as pain and discomfort. There's a possibility of mental changes, but it wouldn't be anything as severe as mental retardation. He’ll still be Harry." She pauses. "I also need to warn you of the side effects of the surgery. They include nausea, headaches, numbness of the scalp, difficulty speaking and remembering words, auras, and shifts in personality. There's also a possibility of weakness or temporary paralysis of one side or part of the body."

" _Oh god_. You honestly believe this is the best option?" Louis asks.

"I do. I think it will eliminate the stress of the situation. I can schedule the surgery for June 3rd. The pre-evaluation would be a week prior, so the," she pauses as she turns to a calendar on the cabinet, "27th of this month. It’s a Wednesday."

Harry swallows harshly and he closes his eyes tightly, "I guess I'll do it then."

"If there's a problem with being on medical leave then I'll personally speak with your management. I can assure you this is the right choice," Dr. Richards offers and she stands up. "I'll be in contact with you. Please, don't stress out about the operation. It's a very simple procedure," She thrusts her hand out and shakes both Harry's and Louis's hands. "Have a great day." She smiles softly before walking out of the sterilized room.

Louis looks to Harry, who hasn't uttered another word, "How do you feel about all of this?" He asks.

"I'm scared." Harry admits as he plays with the rings on his fingers. "I know before I wanted to have the surgery, but now - I don't know Lou. I'm scared." He slides the rings up and down his fingers as he keeps his eyes steadily focused on his hands.

 _I'm scared too_ , Louis thinks, but he doesn't say it. Instead, he moves closer in vicinity to Harry and leans his head back on his shoulder. "What are you scared about?"

"I – well, I don't know. It's stupid. Never mind,” He stands up, letting Louis’s head slide off of him. "Let's go schedule the next appointment and get the hell out of here."

Louis wants to push Harry further and investigate what's on his mind, but he knows it will fluster him and he doesn't want to confuse him right now. It might not be a large procedure, but the fact that its brain surgery is scary within itself.

Harry silently shuffles out of the room and Louis scurries after him, down the long corridor and to the reception desk without a single word.

"Dr. Richards said to schedule you for the 27th. Will noon work for the two of you?" The receptionist asks in her shrill voice.

Harry nods, "That should be fine miss. Thank you."

"Be sure to call if there are any problems," She smiles. "Oh, and your billing address the same, correct?"

Louis stands behind Harry as he speaks with the receptionist. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks down. He swallows harshly. He doesn't know what's going to happen. Harry's going to be resting for nearly two months and he doesn't even know how management is going to react to the news of Harry's medical leave, let alone what’s going to happen to their tour.

"Yes. Of course," Harry weakly smiles.

Harry steps away from the desk and he looks towards Louis. He nods at the front doors and Louis simly sighs in acknowledgement. Louis begins to trudge forward, but Harry shuffles to the left and he clutches Louis’s right hand in his left palm. He pulls the shorter boy closer, positions them front-to-front, and their eyes meet. “We’re going to be okay.” He whispers even though he’s the one having his damn head cut open.

“We _are_ okay.” Louis says in agreement. “We’ll always be okay. No matter the outcome of this, I’m right by your side.”

“We need to schedule a meeting with headquarters. Management is going to flip.”

Louis looks down. He knows that what Harry is rambling about is true any way he looks at it. Management _is_ going to be pissed with the news and with the next leg of tour coming up, Louis isn’t certain that it’s actually going to happen.

“Let them,” He breathes, looking up again and locking eyes with Harry. “You are more important than any amount of money and any tour. You’re worth it all and if this is truly what you need to feel better, then we’re going to do it.”

A flash of awe crosses behind Harry’s eyes before he engulfs Louis into a hug. He leans down and presses his face into Louis’s neck. The grip he has on him is stellar and he doesn’t show any sign of letting go. “I love you, so much Louis.”

“I know Haz,” Louis rubs his hands over his back. “I love you too and we’re going to get through this.”

He has confidence that everything transpiring will be okay, but the pessimistic side of him is attacking his positivity, yet again. His focus comes back to Harry when Harry nips at the skin of his neck and he realizes that it doesn’t matter what happens. He’ll always have Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFnIBBVWbMw


	8. Chapter 8

_Louis' phone rang perpetually for several seconds, nearly thirty he assumed, without any indication of ceasing. He thought, at first, it was one of the boys attempting to bring something to his attention. He supposed that, by chance, another rumor had surfaced. Rumors in months prior had contained debatable issues concerning his sexuality, drinking habits, and whereabouts. Press stories weren't something that often irked him or upset him. His motto was simple: It is what it is. The saying, first said by Harry, meant enough to him that he had it forever engraved on his chest, near where his collarbones showed the prominence they bestowed upon his body._

_But when his phone rang again, he realized that there must have been some sort of urgency behind the phone calls, usually the boys left a missed call with a savage voicemail or a short, angry text._

_He stepped out of the shower, shampoo still in his mousy hair, threatening to leak out and cascade down his sharp facial features. He yanked his towel off of its designated place on the rack and quickly tied it around his tiny waist. He would have to finish his musical number after he returned into the warm array of steam that was his shower._

_Of course, the phone call had to happen right then and there. It flustered him a bit; he never received phone calls when he was doing nothing, otherwise attempting to entertain himself, but when he was trying to accomplish something it seemed as though fifteen other things needed to be tended to right that second as well._

_Thick fog filled the vicinity of the bathroom, covering mirrors and making everything blurry.  As soon as he unlocked the bathroom door and opened it, the clogged air sauntered its way out into the master bedroom, the bedroom in which he and Harry shared since they bought the house together. It was a major upgrade from the flat they owned in North London. This house was roomier and it didn't feel as though it were a temporary place to stay._

_As soon as he stepped out of the bathroom, Bruce yelped and howled at him, almost in fright, Louis leaned down to pet his ears, but Bruce jolted back. He figured that Bruce was afraid of his ringtone, as it was deafening and high-pitched. Letting out a sigh, he stepped around Bruce and walked over to his side of the bed, where a nightstand was set nearby and on top of the nightstand was his beloved cell phone._

_Harry's side of the bed was still made, duvet folded crisply, as Harry had been shipped off to go on vacation with Taylor Swift mere days ago. The two of them were sent to Utah for a ski trip. Louis wouldn't get to see Harry until the following week when he returned, a few days before Christmas. Louis didn't realize how long a week genuinely was. The fact that he had practically begged Harry not to go most likely didn't help time pass quickly, but then again, Harry didn't have much power over the plans. It wasn't his fault._

_All Louis wanted was Harry to arrive home safely and on time for his birthday._

_He picked his phone up and scanned over the number multiple times before realizing that it was unrecognizable and he had no idea who was calling him. It appeared to be an American phone number, a eleven digit string of numbers, and it only pushed his curiosity to the next level. He thought for a second, perhaps it was Harry calling off of a pay phone, but then remembered Harry wouldn't dare use a payphone, considering his slight case of self-diagnosed germophobia._

_Sighing, he had given in, slid the green arrow across the screen, and put the device to his ear, "Hello?"_

_Bruce was sat on the bed at that point, panting as he got as close to Louis as he could without losing footing and tumbling down to the floor. He whined as he tried to nose Louis's hand, but Louis kept recoiling every time Bruce's cold nose grazed his skin._

_"Hello? Hello? Is there a Mr. Louis Tomlinson there?" A woman's stringent voice came amplifying through the speaker. Louis' head peeked up as she said his name._

_"You're speaking to him. May I ask whose calling?"  He asked as he sat down next to Bruce on the king size mattress. His hand absently ran through Bruce's thick, wiry fur._

_"Hi, Mr. Tomlinson, my name is Michelle. I'm a nurse here at Park City Medical Center in Park City, Utah. We have a Mr. Harry Styles here. Your name and phone number were found on his medical alert necklace. He has no records here, therefore there's no other way to contact family. Can you tell me your relationship to him?"_

_It was in that moment that Louis' heart jumped up into his throat and he grabbed the covers beside him in a blind panic, he needed something, anything, to grasp onto. His grip tightened on his phone, fingertips turning white with pressure, "I'm - Well, I'm his fiancé. What's wrong? Is he alright?"_

_She hesitated on the other line, allowing her uneven breathing to become the dominate noise between the two of them, "He's had an accident."_

_Louis thought he was going to puke. He felt his stomach lurch forward, his body bowed forward soon after, but only to make noises of dry heaving as he hadn't actually eaten anything to throw up. "What kind of accident? Is he okay?" He had ignored the fact his hair was damp and soapy as he feverishly yanked at the roots._

_"Before I tell you anymore information, I need to know what kind of seizure disorder Harry suffers from. I also need to know if he has any other medical conditions."_

_"He has - he's an epileptic. And, no. He doesn't have any other medical conditions. Now, please, what happened? Is he okay?"_

_"There was a snowmobile accident at the Canyons Resort. It appears as though Mr. Styles' snowmobile made impact with a tree due to a grand mal seizure. He should be alright. There's a bit of head trauma, which is the only major concern right now. His chin was split open, he's_ _had about twenty stitches. Also, he's broken a few fingers, but the rest is mostly scrapes and bruises."_

_His head was reeling. Harry got into a accident. Harry actually got into a accident and he's in the hospital. He isn't unscathed. "Well who called the ambulance? Fuck, what kind of head trauma are you talking about?" It's that point where he stood up, allowed the towel around his waist to drop to the floor, and moved to his closet. He needed to get to Park City. He needed to see Harry for himself and decide for himself whether Harry was okay or not._

_He knew in the back of his mind that Harry was going to lose his license. He had just gotten it back after months of no seizure activity. He and Louis had both been warned that any more seizures in cars or any forms of transportation would lead to suspension of his license until another few months without a seizure passed. He wasn't sure how long the restriction would be considering Harry crashed a fucking snowmobile and was injured in the process. He was thankful that from the sound of it Harry didn't injure anyone else._

_Louis wouldn’t have said that they were completely honest about the situation. They weren’t. They hadn’t kept track of every seizure. Technically, Harry shouldn’t have been driving of motorized vehicle, there hadn't been months in between seizures, but Harry was adamant on driving himself around. Louis didn’t want to baby him._

_"Miss Taylor Swift was the passenger. She's here in the waiting room, thankfully unscathed aside from a few bumps and bruises. As for Mr. Styles, his head trauma is nothing too severe. There isn't any internal bleeding. The wound is along the hairline and required stitches. Doctors have classified his head injury as a concussion. We'd say it's a rather concerning concussion due to his epilepsy. He's still unconscious at this time and he suffered a second seizure in the ambulance, which is a possible effect of the concussion. It's believed he hit his head on the steering wheel. How soon can you arrive?"_

_"Right now I'm in London, but I'll get a flight as soon as I can. I can be there by tomorrow morning at the latest." Louis offered, pulling a pair of sweats up over his legs._

_"Is there any other family that can possibly be here sooner?"_

_"No.Everyone's here in England. I'll be there soon. If he wakes up tell him I'll be there as soon as I can, please. Is there anyone there with him?"_

_"Miss Swift."_

_"Alright. Tell her to go home and get some sleep, please? Inform her that I'll be there for him and that she's done an excellent job, but I can take it from here."_

_"Okay. See you soon Mr. Tomlinson. Come through the ER entrance when you arrive. Have a safe flight." She hung up and as soon as the call ended Louis shoved his phone in the pocket of his sweats._

_He pulled a hoodie over his head and looked towards Bruce, "I'll be back." He promised as though the dog understood the meaning behind the words he had to say._

_He didn't bother packing a suitcase or any extra clothes for that matter. He needed to get to Harry and he would do whatever he needed to in order to get to Harry in a timely fashion, although twelve hours was hardly timely._

_By the time he reached Utah, he had endured exactly twelve hours and twenty three minutes of a crowded plane, and his nerves were hanging by a thread, literally. Some little boy continuously kicked the back of his seat until he had fallen asleep and there had been a obnoxious couple sitting in the row beside him. He doesn't recall exactly what they looked like, considering they were sucking each other's faces half the time, the other half they spent time in the bathroom, which Louis guessed the faint moans he had heard came from._

_He wasn't able to bring himself to fall asleep. His anxiety wouldn't allow him any second of shut eye. The unknown scared him. He didn't know whether Harry was going to be alright or not. Head injuries and epilepsy were nothing to mess around with. Maybe management would listen to him when he fucking says Harry shouldn't be left alone, let alone sent away on a PR stunt, because he isn't well enough, and his epilepsy is not something he can handle on his own. Harry, being one of the most forgetful people there's ever been, constantly forgetting to take his medication and he always pushed himself too hard, lack of sleep and too much stress both provoke seizures._

_He arrived at the hospital nearly twenty five minutes after touching down in the airport, having forced a taxi driver to take him where he needed to go. He paid the driver more than he deserved after throwing a wad of cash at him. He ran into the Emergency Room Entrance, as he had been directed to, and his first instinct had been to rush to the front desk and slap his hands down on the surface._

_"I need help. I'm looking for someone."  
_

_"Hello," A male receptionist answered, voice oddly calm for dealing with ruthless patients and family members all day, "How can I help you?"_

_"I'm looking for Harry Styles. Can you tell me his room number? He's my fiancé." He swallowed as his eyes locked with the man behind the desk._

_"Are you Louis?"_

_Louis whipped his head around at the sound of his name to see a male in a lab coat walking towards him. The doctor peeled a pair of latex gloves off of his calloused hands, stopping to toss them into the rubbish bin, before crossing the rest of the distance to Louis._

_"Yeah. I'm Louis. How did you know?" Louis replied, attempting to regain his breath. He was panting from running across the parking lot.. He stepped away from the reception desk and came face to face with the older gentleman. As he moved closer he noticed the dark bags under the man's eyes as well as his hair that was beginning to grey._

_"Instinct, I suppose. Allow me to introduce myself, I'm Dr. Johns. I'm the neurologist dealing with Harry's case," The man thrust his hand out in front of him and Louis hesitantly shook it. "It's good to see you son. He's been asking for you since he woke up."_

_"He's awake? How long has he been awake? Is he okay?" Louis couldn't control the flood of questions that fell out of his mouth._

_"One question at a time, please. I'll take you to him. Let's walk and talk," Dr. Johns began to walk and Louis took it as authorization to follow. Louis walked several paces behind the doctor as to not show dominance over the situation. He wasn't in control, as much as he might have wanted to be. "Harry didn't experience anything major. There aren't any signs of a hematoma or swelling. Though, the concussion he has is something we'd like to monitor for a couple of days as it did bring on another seizure in the ambulance. It's an unlucky thing that's happened. Pain medicine has been administered. He had a tremendous headache earlier and as physicians it is our job to make patients as comfortable as possible," He explains as they walk down a corridor. They make a right down a different hallway. "We were very concerned earlier because he hadn't regained consciousness. The concern of the situation still remains, but its more relief than anything now. He woke up at approximately two this afternoon, nearly six hours ago, and he asked for you as soon as he regained the ability to speak."_

_Louis listened intently as the doctor explained and he was more than relieved to hear that Harry was awake and well. Dr. Johns halted suddenly. "Here we are. Are they any other questions I can answer for you before I allow you to see him?"_

_Louis shook his head and the doctor held the door open for him. Louis stopped in the doorway and he swallowed. Harry was asleep, but he looked so small lying in a hospital bed. He had an I.V line in his hand. He didn't look to be in too rough of condition. He had gauze wrapped around his head and pressed to the bottom of his chin. There was a scattering of bruises and scrapes that peeked out of the hospital gown and were also evident on unclothed flesh. "Oh baby." He whispered, eyes watering with both relief and fear._

_"I'll give you some time alone." Dr. Johns dismissed himself and shut the door after he stepped out._

_Louis walked over to Harry's bedside and he sat down in the chair that resided nearby. He gently grabbed Harry's hand and laced their fingers together. "What am I going to do with you?" He sobbed in pure uncertainty. All he knew was Harry was well, but that wasn't enough anymore._

_The constant fear of Harry getting hurt had come true. His other hand absently found its way to shield his face as he cried into it. He couldn't keep it up. He loved Harry more than life itself, but the epilepsy had become the main component of their relationship which it shouldn't have ever been._

_His throat felt raw and there was a phantom clump that had stuck in the back of his throat, making it impossible to swallow. "God, Harry. What are we going to do? We can't do this anymore."_

That had been the last time Harry had been hospitalized. _The Accident_ , as it's become referred to as, when they absolutely must speak of it, happened in December 2012 and it was still one of the scariest phone calls Louis had ever received. He shouldn’t have ever allowed Harry to go to Utah.

Harry has been hospitalized before. It's almost as though hospitalization is a side effect of epilepsy. He's been hospitalized a total of four times, including _The Accident_ , for as long as Louis knew him, almost once a year, all concerning his disorder in one way or another.

Louis has been the one to call an ambulance three of the four times. He draws a line at four minutes of seizing and a head oozing blood. He also draws a line when Harry's skin tints blue. Granted, he knows Harry's prone to having blue lips and fingernails when he has a seizure because he holds his breath and doesn't get the proper oxygen intake, but flesh isn't meant to be blue.

_"What's your emergency?"_

_"My boyfriend is turning **blue** , but he stopped seizing minutes ago. I don't know what to do. This hasn't happened before." _

_"An ambulance is on its way to your location. Are there any obstructions in his airway?"_

Now, the two of them were in the hospital for an entirely different reason. Harry was about to undergo brain surgery.

The longer Louis dwelled on that fact the harder reality became to grasp. He sits in a plastic chair near the bed where Harry is resting, well, panicking. He wears a ivy green hospital gown on and an abnormal expression. Currently, his pupils are blown wide and his breathing is sporadic as he desperately squeezes Louis's hand, seeking reassurance.

Harry is crying. "Lou - I, _Louis_ , I can't do this. I don't want to do this. Please, please don't make me do this. I want to go home."

He had been fine all morning, a bit more quiet than usual, but then again so was Louis. There were no words spoken the night before of the early hours of the morning, no words would have possibly made the day feel less stressful or cramped, but at least the silence was comfortable for once.

Louis certainly didn't imagine Harry was going to have a breakdown minutes before the operation. He had been fine, up until he saw a nurse come in with a pair of shaving clippers.

" _Harry_ ," Louis sighs, watching Harry closely. He leans forward and uses the hand Harry isn't squeezing the life out of to wipe underneath his eyes with his thumb. "It's just hair. It'll grow back love. You'll still look gorgeous with a bit less hair."

Harry shakes his head and a particularly loud sob leaves his mouth. The nurse who came in with clippers stands silently off to the side as she watches the interaction between the two of them. "It's not that. I don’t care.  I'm scared Lou. I am so scared."

"Scared of what sweetheart?"

"What if I die? Or if I come out...different?"

“Different?”

“Disabled or- or something, I don't know.”

Louis has the same thoughts, but he quit elaborating to Harry weeks ago in fear that he would scare him. He didn't want to make him fearful of the operation; there was no need to make him wary for no reason. Harry had been right; these doctors do know what they're doing, so he doesn't quite understand what has suddenly gotten into Harry, considering how positive he had been about the surgery beforehand.

"Harry? Baby, look at me," He whispers and he places his small hand on Harry's jaw. "There is nothing to be scared of. Everything is going to be fine. The surgery is going to be over before you know it. I'll be right there when you wake up."

Suddenly, he remembers part of the reason Harry is scared is because he's going to be awake for the second part of the procedure, where the brain tissue is actually removed, in order to ensure they won't hit the wrong area of the brain. "I promise that everything that happens in the operating room will be okay. This isn't the first time they've done a surgery like this. Have a bit of faith."

Harry nods and swallows, "I know, I know, but I'm scared Lou. What if the medicine doesn't work and I feel it?"

"You won't feel it love. The medicine they're going to give you will numb everything. I promise." Louis brushes his thumb against Harry's cheekbone.

The nurse, who has been long forgotten, speaks up, "I can give you a sedative if you wish Mr. Styles. It will take your anxiety away."

Harry looks towards the nurse and he shakes his head, "No. It's okay. I'm fine."

Louis glares at Harry and then glances back up at the nurse, "Yes. Go ahead and give it to him." He answers for him.

In all honesty, Louis doesn't want Harry sobbing when she shaves part of his hair. He doesn't know if he could handle seeing Harry choke on his own words again.

The nurse disappears for several minutes, but returns barring a needle. She approaches Harry and she gently pushes the needle into his skin, squirting the clear liquid into his veins.

It takes almost immediate effect. Louis notices how the tension floods out of Harry's hand and then notices the tight line his lips were drawn in fall into a lopsided grin. "All right?"

Harry nods at him. "I'm good."

"It isn't going to make him silly. It's what we often use on patients who are panicked and anxious, primarily about their surgeries. It's for their own gain, a more positive experience." The nurse explains. "Harry, I'm going to shave the area of your head the surgeons will be working on today. Is that okay?"

"Yeah." Harry stares up at the ceiling and his grip releases on Louis's hand. He moves his hand to rest on top of his own thigh.

It's strange to see how quickly Harry went from deliriously upset to neutral.

"Actually, can I?"

Harry quickly turns his head and he meets Louis' eyes. His eyebrows furrow into the shape of a 'v' as he tries to figure out where exactly Louis is going with this.

"You want to shave his head?" The nurse asks. She becomes silent for several seconds as she thinks it over. "I don't see why that would be a problem."

Louis takes Harry's hand back in his. "I'm going to make you look like a rockstar love. I’ll be the next famous hairdresser. You’ll look marvelous when I’m done with you darling."

Harry laughs at this and nods. A slight blush peaks on the apples of his cheeks.

The nurse, who Louis finally figures out by her name tag is named Charlotte, snatches the razor up from the dresser nearby Harry's bed. Harry is directed to sit down in a chair that is centered in the small room. He moves to where he’s told.  His hands grip the arms of the chair as he waits for his _makeover_.

Soon, Charlotte is stood behind Louis, directing him what area of Harry's hair needs to be shaved.

Louis clicks a button and the razor begins to buzz. He gently grabs underneath Harry's chin and swipes the razor over Harry's locks. The first massive clump of hair falls to the linoleum floor and Louis hesitates, staring first at the difference he's made and then at the mass of long hair that's fallen to the floor. His mouth is agape in shock until he swallows harshly, forcing his lips to meet again.

He can feel tears prickling the back of his eyes. He's getting rid of Harry's pride and joy. He didn’t expect for it to fall out so easily. There’s still hair left in the spot he shaved because Harry’s hair is thick, but the length of the unruly mane simply fell off.

Harry watches Louis closely, finally he decides to offer reassurance, "It's okay Lou." Harry whispers, even though he doesn’t sound convinced about it himself. "Has to be done doesn't it?"

Louis nods and the dull noise of the razor dominates over the room as he continues to shave the side of Harry's head. He figures Harry will end up having it all shaved off because there isn't a point of having long hair on one side of his head and nowhere else. He can’t imagine Harry with a buzz cut. He’s never known Harry with hair cut any shorter than mid-ear. He doesn’t want to think about it.

He finally turns the razor off and sets it down. His fingertips graze the smooth area that he's produced on Harry's head. "I like it." Louis whispers. "I think it brings out your eyes."

It doesn’t really bring out his eyes. It dulls them if anything. The dark appearance of his hair has always made his eyes seem brighter than they actually are. His eyes sometimes appear to look like a shade of sea glass when in reality the color of moss describes them truly.

"You're sweet." Harry whispers. His hand is now running over the shaved area. His fingers skim Louis’s multiple times as they both rub the area. "Do you still think I'm beautiful?"

"Always love. A little less hair doesn't change how I feel about you." Louis presses his lips to the top of Harry's head.

Charlotte clears her throat, "I hate to interrupt, but Mr. Styles, they want to get you down to the OR to finish prepping you for surgery. Mr. Tomlinson, if you could please return to the waiting room. There will be a nurse out periodically telling you updates."

Harry nods and he stands up slowly from the chair. Louis steps closer to him and takes his face in his hands before kissing him. Their lips lock and a pulse of passion fill both of the voids in the pits of their stomachs. Louis’s hand smoothly cards through the hair Harry has left.

"I love you, so much. I'll be there when you get out love I promise. As soon as you come to, I'll be right there." He whispers.

"I love you too Louis. Thank you for being the best thing that’s ever happened to me." Their foreheads are pressed together and the intensity between the two of them is unfathomable to anyone not involved directly with the moment.

Charlotte clears her throat once more, causing the two of them to separate. "I'll be right there when you wake up." Louis whispers, grabbing Harry's hand and lifting his knuckles to his lips. “Do you know where else I’ll be?”

“Uh – I don’t know.”

Louis lifts their intertwined hands up and he presses them to the left side of Harry’s chest, more specifically his heart. “Right here, always in your heart babe as you’re always in mine.”

He releases his grip and hesitantly takes a step away from Harry. He doesn't want to leave him, but it's what needs to be done.

He meets Harry’s eyes once more and smiles. Before long he’s walking down the long corridor, back through the way he came nearly an hour ago. His thoughts leave him unfocused as his main concern is Harry. He doesn't have a clue how long the procedure will be.

As soon as he thrusts the door to the waiting room open his eyes lock with someone he's relieved to see.

"Liam? What are you doing here?" he asks as he approaches the brunette. He sits down beside him.

"I figured you needed someone here," Liam replies, small smile painted on his swollen lips as he peers at Louis. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he participated in last night. Neither of them are dressed up, rather both of them are in sweatpants and plain t-shirts. Liam somehow looks messier than Louis. "Are you the only one here? Anne isn't coming?"

"Anne's coming in an hour or so. I told her there was no use in waiting around, but she insisted on coming for part of it no matter what I said," Louis waves it off with a simple hand gesture. "You know, you didn't have to come Liam."

"I know I didn't, but I _wanted_ to. A little support never killed anyone. Anyway, how's he doing?"

"They took him back for the surgery a few minutes ago. He was uh – He was quite upset. The nurse gave him a sedative to calm him down. They let me - I, um, I shaved his head." Louis tells him and he looks down at his hands. His fingers wring together nervously.

"Yeah? How did he feel about that?"

"He wasn't happy about it obviously. It’s rough - that's like his thing, you know? He has always been really proud of his hair and iconic for his curls and to shave it off for a surgery...I don't know, it's just rough, I guess."

Liam reaches over and he clutches Louis' knee, constricting in reassurance. "It'll grow back."

"I know."

"Now, how are _you_ holding up?"

Louis shakes his head in confusion, "I don't know what you mean."

"Considering management and Harry having his head cut open this afternoon, you know what I mean," Liam sighs, releasing his grasp on Louis' knee. "You never did tell me how your conference with Modest! went."

“You really want to know?”

Liam nods.

“Alright…”

_Louis walked into the large conference room, hand protectively on Harry's lower back as the two of them made their way into the room of businessmen in suits. Everyone was dressed formally, except for the two of them, as they were simply in torn jeans and button up tops._

_"Morning gentlemen," One of the men at the head of the table, Mr. Richard Griffiths, greeted. Sat beside him was Mr. Harry Magee, both men were heads of Modest! Management. "Have a seat. We don't have time to waste any longer. You're late."_

_"Actually, we're five minutes early." Louis corrected. It was 9:56, they were due at 10 sharp, but with Harry complaining of a headache all morning, as soon as he woke up, and having untimely impulses, they weren't able to show up any earlier. It wasn't the biggest deal, as they were still on time, but Harry liked to be at least fifteen minutes early for all events._

_The thing with Harry is he has impulses from the epilepsy. He's been known to bang his head against cupboard doors and drop objects that he holds in his hands because his neural activity just isn't right. The nerves in one’s brain control the messages sent through the body, nerves are the components which tell muscles to perform certain tasks, sometimes Harry goes through bouts where the neural activity is disrupted during an action, causing him to do tasks he normally wouldn't, such as punching a wall or biting down on Louis’ lip in the middle of a kiss._

_"Arguments are not necessary Mr. Tomlinson. **Sit**." Mr. Magee pointed to seats at the opposing end of the round table. _

_Harry looked to Louis and he shuffled away from his touch as he obeyed the orders given by the corporate men. Louis followed close behind and sat down beside Harry._

_"Will one of you care to explain why exactly a meeting has been called? If it's in regards to the closeting process then I do believe this meeting is over." Mr. Griffiths said._

_Louis looked towards Harry. They hadn't discussed whether or not Louis would be the one to bring it up or if Harry would dominate over the situation. Judging by the look that was spanned across Harry's face, Louis knew he would have to be the one to step up. It's not that he minded it either. Harry wanted to remain respectful, even if it meant being stepped on like a doormat._

_"Harry and I won't be continuing on with the next leg of the tour. Harry will be on medical leave and I'll be taking care of him."_

_"Is that so?" Mr. Magee bellowed with a short-lived laugh. "And what exactly is this inexplicable medical leave pertaining to?"_

_"His epilepsy. He's not exactly been well, if you've happened to notice. He needs to undergo brain surgery to adjust a problem he's recently developed from your stressful intentions of your robotic money makers."_

_"Is there proof?"_

_"I have his physician’s number if you would care to speak with her. I've been told it's not something to mess around with, as his epilepsy has never been. You realize that this entire time your profitable boy toy could have died? One seizure handled wrong and he could die. This procedure is important."_

_Harry glanced at Louis as the angry spurt of words came flooding out of the older boys mouth. He sunk back into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest in discomfort._

_"Say, we allow for Mr. Styles to undergo the operation -"_

_"It isn't a matter of you **letting** him have the procedure. He's having it whether you want him to or not."_

_Mr. Griffiths scoffed, "Fine Mr. Tomlinson. Say, Mr. Styles undergoes the operation, which he supposedly needs; you're saying he will be unable to perform?"_

_"Sir," Harry cleared his throat. "It is brain surgery. I'm getting a portion of my brain removed."_

_"Who’s authorizing this exactly?" Mr. Magee asked, bewildered._

_"Harry's doctor. Perhaps, I should get her on the phone since you chose not to take your clients’ word on it."_

_"That will not be necessary at this time. Fine. It is understood Mr. Styles is in need of the procedure. We do not need to have a lawsuit on our hands. Why are you asking for permission for time off Mr. Tomlinson?"_

_"Oh. I'm not asking. I'm **telling** you that I won't be continuing on with your tour."_

_Harry reached over and placed his hand on Louis' thigh, most likely trying to calm him down, after having felt the persistent animosity radiating off of Louis. He constricted gently._

_"And why is that?"_

_"Please, do tell me what you think fucking brain surgery is. Harry isn't going to be able to take care of himself."_

_"He's taken care of himself this far."_

_"He hasn't had part of his brain cut out before!" Louis yelled, palms slapping down on the table top in outrage. "I am not leaving him, an epileptic who’s undergoing brain surgery, alone to take care of himself and I refuse to force his family to care for him. I am his fiancé. He will need assistance. I will be providing him with the help he needs whether you approve or not."_

_"We don't approve."_

_"Then we're done here," Louis stood up and turned to face Harry. "Come on Haz. Time to go."_

_Harry slowly rose to his feet and peered around the conference room anxiously._

_"Where do you think you're going? This meeting is far from over."_

_"My lawyer will be in contact with you tomorrow. Good day, gentlemen."_

Liam watches Louis in amazement, "What a bunch of dumbasses. That's ridiculous."

"You're telling me," Louis shakes his head. "I still can't believe some people are actually that stupid and selfish."

"What happened after that?"

"My lawyer got in contact with them, threatened to make the case public, and let's just say the next leg of the tour is postponed until further notice."

“I think you did the right thing.”

“Thank you. Some people seem to think I’m overacting, but I don’t believe I am. Epilepsy is extremely serious as you know.”

“It is.”

“It’s hard to deal with and people don’t seem to understand unless they’ve dealt with it on a first hand basis.”

"I’ll always remember the first time I saw him like that. The first time he had a seizure in front of the boys and I was scary, but I do think it brought us closer together." Liam points out.

_Liam, Zayn, and Niall, had turned their heads in Harry's direction at the noise of glass shattering._

_"H, you alright?" Liam asked, standing up from his seat, and moving to stand at the edge of the row, where Harry sat by himself._

_Louis had been complaining of feeling nauseous, most likely from being stuck in a plane for three hours already, so he went into the bathroom in an attempt to keep the food and drink he had consumed from escaping up his esophagus and leaking on the floor of the plane._

_Liam paused once he saw the mass of shattered glass on the floor in front of the row of seats. "What happened?"_

_"Nothing. I - I just dropped it, I guess." Harry ran his hand through his hair._

_"Okay. I'll get one of the flight attendants to clean it up. You didn't get hit with any of the pieces did you?"_

_Harry shook his head slowly, as of gradually comprehending the question, "Uh - no, no I don't think so."_

_As if she herself heard the noise, an air hostess walked down the aisle seconds later, she was thin and brunette, "Sir, will you please return to your seat?" she asked._

_"Sure, of course, but could you help my mate out? He dropped his glass on the ground."_

_The air hostess bent down and she carefully examined the ground, where the glass lie, "I'll go get a dust pan." She dismissed herself before walking back down the aisle._

_Liam watched Harry closely, "Are you okay?"_

_"Yeah, I'm -" His foot shot in front of him, kicking the back of Zayn's seat._

_"Fuck!" Zayn shouted, glancing up from his phone, and whirling his head around. "Bro, what did you do that for?"_

_Niall's attention became focused on the scene between his band mates, he shifted in his seat, turning around entirely so his chest pressed to the back of his seat as he kneeled forward._

_"I - I don't," his foot shot out in front of him again, kicking the back of the seat even harder. This time a quiet cry escaped between his lips._

_"Harry," Zayn said, this time his tone was much more gentle and concerned. "Harry. What's wrong?"_

_"I can't - I don't have any control over it."_

_His hands suddenly shifted and they gripped the armrests tightly, knuckles and fingertips turning white with pressure. They trembled with the amount of force._

_His entire body tensed in oddly times intervals, before it slowly relaxed, only to tense again. He was holding his breath with every cramp, not exhaling until his body had relaxed._

_Another sob had left his mouth and tears came to the surface in his light green eyes. Tears began to leak out, cascading down his pained expression._

_" **H** ," Liam stressed the syllable as he moved closer. The concern he felt for the younger boy was spanned across his solid facial features. He placed his hand over Harry's, gently rubbing his thumb over the pulled skin. "Harry. What's wrong?" he asked, softly._

_In the meantime, the air hostess had returned and she stood beside Liam, dust pan and brush in her hands, "Sir, I really need you to return to your seat. I -"_

_Zayn interrupted her, "Listen. He's trying to help our friend. As soon as this is all resolved, he'll sit back down, I promise."_

_"Harry," Niall spoke, his voice raw from the evident fear he felt, but nonetheless he showed Harry the comfort he needed. "It's okay. I promise, it’s okay. Can you tell us what's wrong? Are you in pain?"_

_The idea that Harry was epileptic didn't seem to cross any of the boys' minds. It wasn't something they had to deal with before, so it was only a lurking presence in the back of their mind rather than a blatant thought._

_The air hostess huffed and as she eyed Harry, she soon realized as well that something was ideally wrong. "Sir -"_

_"We've got it handled. Will you please just clean up the glass?" Liam dismissed her with a wave of his hand._

_Harry's breathing had picked up, sporadic inhales were the only noise Liam could hear, and there weren't many exhales that followed. "Harry, I need you to breathe for me. Take a deep breath. Don't hold your breath." He directed, stepping around the brunette woman who was on her knees as she collected the glass together in one massive heap._

_He stood in front of Harry. His back was pressed to the seats in front of Harry's row and his legs were against Harry's knees. Harry was reaching out for Liam's hand, unable to produce anything other than agitated noises in that moment. "What do you need Harry?"_

_"Lou," he gasped, choking on the breath hitched in his throat. "Need Lou." Liam let Harry hold onto his hand, even though he was squeezing incredibly harsh._

_Liam squeezed his hand in return. "Niall, go get Louis from the bathroom, tell him we need him out here." Liam orders. It was hard to ignore the group of people that were starting to close in on him. Every single one of them was staring at them as though they were a circus act._

_Niall jumped out of the seat and ran down the aisle to the single bathroom, separating the coach seats from those that were first class. In front of the bathroom door was a woman, hands on her hip, as she knocked feverishly on the door._

_"Ma'am, excuse me, I need to get through." Niall explained as he pushed past her._

_"I don't think so. I've been waiting fifteen minutes! Get out of the bathroom! Other people need to use it!" The woman shouted at the door._

_Niall sighed, "I don't need to use the loo. I need to get my friend out of there."_

_"Make it quick." She huffed._

_Niall stepped in front of her and tried to twist the handle, not to his surprise the door was locked, "Louis? Are you in there?"_

_"Yeah." A quiet voice croaked._

_"Are you ill?"_

_"I haven't thrown up, yet, if that's what you mean. What do you want?"_

_"Something's wrong with Harry. He's shaking like a leaf and I don't think he can breathe very well. He keeps gasping and wheezing."_

_It wasn't five seconds later that the door was being thrust open, revealing a pasty looking Louis, with sweat soaking his hair. "Is he having a seizure?"_

_"Harry - oh fuck! He has epilepsy." Niall exclaimed, having an epiphany._

_"Yeah he fucking does," Louis said through clenched teeth. He shoved his way past Niall, leaving Niall to stand with the older, irritated woman. Niall took one look at her, sighed, and ran after Louis. By the time he returned to the row of seats Harry was in, Louis had switched places with Liam. Zayn was standing near Liam, their arms crossed over both of their chests. Two air hostesses stood nearby, ready to jump into action._

_"Harry, look at me," Louis whispered, holding Harry's chin. He forced Harry's head up, but Harry's eyes wouldn't make contact. "Love? Harry, Hazza, come on, look at me. You're okay." He leaned down closer to the younger boy, face inches away from Harry's. "Sweetheart, please," He whispered weakly, voice cracking. He patted Harry's cheek, hoping to gain the attention he desired. "Harry."_

_It wasn't often that Louis was in a vulnerable state. Liam exchanged looks with both Niall and Zayn. They were absolutely clueless. Harry had never been like this before in front of them._

_"Lou." Harry whimpered, his eyes unfocused on something behind Louis. He was scared._

_"Shh. It's okay. I've got you. I've always had you, haven't I? It's going to be okay."_

_Briefly, Harry had caught Louis's eyes, offering him little to no emotion, before he had slumped forward. "Shit!" Louis shouted at the sudden weight of his boyfriend in his arms. "Fuck, okay," he whispered to himself. "I need everyone to move! Get out of my way!" He had attempted to lift Harry, but he was holding dead weight, 165 pounds of man, it was too heavy for him. "Liam! Liam, I need you to help me move him. Quickly, help me get him to the aisle way."_

_Liam's eyes were wide as he watched the situation in front of him. Though, he didn't hesitate, he sprinted forward and gently he took underneath Harry's arms, Louis grasped his legs, and together they were able to move him and lay him down in the middle of the aisle. Louis dropped to his knees with a dull thud beside Harry._

_"I need a jacket." Louis snapped his fingers. He hadn't taken his eyes off of Harry once. He hadn't planned to. He moved Harry onto his side and then proceeded to move his legs into a more appropriate position._

_Niall took his hoodie off and threw it to Louis and Louis draped it over Harry's hips._

_"If everyone could take two steps back, that would be fucking great. There isn't anything to see here," Louis chastised._

_It was then Harry started to thrash violently, spasms coursed through his body, forcing his limbs to sharply jerk and curve inwards. His body arched each time tension took over his muscles. A blue tint had taken over his lips as he struggled to breathe through his contracting throat. Red infused salvia leaked out past his lips, indicating Harry had bitten his tongue or cheek._

_"It's okay," Louis whispered as he carefully adjusted the chains around Harry's neck. "You're going to be okay. Stop shaking love. Come back to me. You're doing so well." He carefully rubbed circles into the center of Harry's chest._

_Liam stood unorthodoxly still as he watched Harry convulse on the floor. "Jesus Christ." He muttered._

_"This is - I guess I never realized what epilepsy really was." Zayn said. He looked to Niall, whose mouth was open in shock, and he wrapped his arm around his shoulders, tugging him closer. "It's okay. He's going to be okay."_

_"Harry," Louis whispered. He winced at the whimpering eluding Harry's lips. "Shh. Shh. It's okay. You're okay darling. I love you." His hand moved up to rub underneath Harry's jaw. "I'm proud of you. You're doing great. Bear with me. A few more seconds and it will all be over." He promised._

_Glancing up at Liam, he asked, "Can one of you find me a wet rag?" He asked._

_"I'll find one." Zayn dismissed himself as he walked towards the startled air hostesses._

_Louis' heartbeat rose in speed and his fingertips tingled as he kept an eye on Harry. He had forgotten to keep track of the time, but he knew deep down it was not anything past a few minutes._

_Nearly thirty more seconds would pass before Harry gradually ceased seizing. His body slowly transformed from convulsions into withering and then into trembling. Harry had convulsed his way onto his back from the position he'd been adjusted in when it started. Louis reached forward and he gently took Harry's head and tilted it forward letting the saliva trail out of his lips._

_He used the back of his hand to wipe Harry's lips and then simply wiped his hand off on his sweats, not caring about the impending stain. The scent of fresh urine hit his nose before he caught sight of the stain seeping through Niall's hoodie._

_"Is he alright, sir?" A flight attendant finally managed to ask._

_"No. He isn't **alright**. He just had a bloody seizure. There won't be any need for medical assistance or landing the plane. He suffers from epilepsy. Just leave us alone." Louis spat. _

_His attention shifted back to Harry. "Harry?" He gently tapped Harry's cheek, but he didn't receive a response._

_"Here," Zayn said, appearing behind Louis. He handed him a wet rag which Louis draped over Harry's forehead. "Is he okay?"_

_"Yeah, he's okay." Louis whispered. "He'll come to in a few minutes."_

_Niall finally managed, "That was really scary."_

_"You're sure he's okay?" Liam asked._

_"He'll be fine. It'll take him some time to recover, but he'll be okay."_

"You honestly believe that?"

"I do, yeah," Liam nods. "As awful as epilepsy is, I don't think, had Harry not had it, that we would be as close as we are. I think the illness brings us together as brothers rather than just friends."

"Epilepsy is one of the worst disorders to have. It's awful. I can never get it through my head that Harry's dealt with this for seventeen years now. A child shouldn't have to deal with something like that."

Louis has kept all the stories he's been told by both Anne and Harry in the back of his mind. Whenever he gets frustrated with Harry he thinks about how much worse it could be. It could be much worse. He's thankful for what he has with Harry, he's grateful for Harry period. He's been graced by such a loving, gold hearted boyfriend. His loving, gold hearted boyfriend who doesn't deserve the disorder he's been cursed with.

"Harry has never gone very deep into his childhood. I don't know much about it." Liam admits.

"You don't want to," Louis whispers, catching Liam's eyes for a split second before glancing down at his lap. "His parents divorced because of him. They argued constantly about specialists and medication until it became too much. He was home-schooled until secondary school, Anne was too afraid to trust someone else with Harry's health."

"Wasn't he homeschooled for part of secondary school too?"

Louis nods. "He had a fit in Year 10. Harry's never gone into depth about it; I assume it was a bad one. Anne pulled him out until Year 12."

Liam nods thoughtfully, "I couldn't imagine."

"I couldn't either," Louis becomes silent and his eyes wander around the waiting room. There are groups of smiling families in certain spots, whereas others are filled with tear-stricken and panicked relatives. Something, out of the corner of his eye, catches his attention and he turns his head to peak at it. To his surprise there's a bouquet of flowers sitting on the chair beside Liam. They are white carnations dyed with shades of purple, pink, and red. "Those are nice. Did you bring flowers for Harry?"

"I did," Liam smiles. "Soph picked them out. Pretty, aren't they?"

"Gorgeous. Harry will enjoy them. Why didn't Sophia come along?"

"She didn't want you to feel crowded. She knows, as do I, how angry you can get when you feel overcrowded.” He pauses. “I almost forgot, she told me to tell you she sends all the love and support in the world."

"Me specifically?"

"You specifically." Liam concurs.

"That's quite sweet. Make sure to tell her I appreciate everything. She's too good for you."

Liam quietly laughs. "That she is. A right angel that one."

"Once Harry's feeling better the four of us should go out."

"We should."

Louis becomes quiet yet again. Five minutes go by before any words are exchanged again, "Hey Liam."

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for caring enough to come today. I really needed somebody." He admits. He has never been one to admit vulnerability openly, but when he does the words have an irreplaceable strength behind them.

"I know. You don't have to thank me Lou. It's what friends are for."

Hours of waiting pass. At one point Louis even fell asleep on Liam's shoulder, but most of the time was made up of conversing, debating, playing games on their phones, and most of all, stressing.

Anne showed up at the forty five minute mark, wearing a nervous expression and unkempt hair. It took Louis approximately ten minutes to reassure her that Harry was in good hands. Granted, he had to convince himself of that first. She was now typing away on her phone, most likely sending messages to family members and friends to keep them updated.

They received updates every half an hour, usually only simple "the surgery is going very well. He's going to be just fine" from a nurse, but the simple phrase was enough to flood relief into Louis' chest.

Niall and Zayn both sent texts asking about Harry's condition and telling Louis they would be visiting in the next couple days.

Texts from his own family and friends were rather consistent, telling him to keep strong and they would be supportive no matter what. _Which is odd_ , Louis thought, _I'm not the one having brain surgery._ Instead of correcting them he thanked them for their kind words.

The only ones who had yet to respond were the fans. Twitter was dead for the most part, though an underlying suspicion was evident. The news had been broken to them a week ago. The news being One Direction would not be continuing on with tour. Needless to say an internet breakdown ensued.

So, maybe the breakdown is what is persuading Louis to type out this message he is in this moment or maybe it's the fact that he is so sick of his relationship with Harry seeming strained and awkward to the fans or maybe he just wants to give the world the extra push on their road of conspiring the truth that is Larry Stylinson. He isn't sure.

"Liam, what do you think about this tweet?" He hands his IPhone over to Liam. Liam's facial expression visibly shifts as he reads what Louis is about to send.

Liam glances up from Louis' phone before handing the silver device back to them, "What are you going to say when the fans ask?"

"I'll tell them."

"I don't know how well that's going to blow over with management."

Louis shrugs, "I don't care. I have nothing to lose.”

"Go for it."

Louis is surprised at Liam's approval, but nevertheless he presses the send button.

_@Louis_Tomlinson: The wait is killing me . All I want is for my boy to come out of surgery !!_

Anne's expresses a question, "May I ask what you sent?"

Louis angles her phone screen, allowing Anne to read the tweet.

She smiles at him, then glances back down at her phone and resumes typing lengthy messages.

The response messages come at him in thousands, all asking the same question: _@Louis_Tomlinson who are you talking about?_

He chooses one specific girl to reply to.

_@Louis_Tomlinson: @larryslove I'm talking about @Harry_Styles ! He's having brain surgery . Send him lots of love !!_

The next messages that he receives are wild. Most of them are asking either why he's having brain surgery or if Harry’s going to be alright whereas some of them are begging for an outing of Larry.

"I'm going to out us. It’s time." Louis blurts out, seemingly randomly. Both Anne and Liam look up, but neither responds. "Then, I'll stay off twitter until things blow off in a few weeks."

So, he picks another girl randomly from his timeline.

_@aye1D: tbh i feel like there's an underlying message @Louis_Tomlinson is trying to tell us ... i hope h is alright_

_@Louis_Tomlinson:_ _@aye1D_ _@Harry_Styles is my lovely fiance !! with some time he'll pull through ! don't worry !! :)_

Louis quickly locks his phone to avoid all messages that are being sporadically sent. "Shit! I can't believe I just sent that."

Liam smiles at him. "Let's just hope the backlash isn't too bad, yeah?"

"I'm not worried about that. Promise me one thing; don't bring it up to Harry any time soon. He needs to recover and I don't plan on putting piles of stress on him."

"Of course. I won't say a word about it to him."

It's nearly a half an hour before a surgeon comes over to the three of them and her facial expression is light, filled with hardly any tension, "Hi. You're here for Harry Styles right?"

"Yes. How is he?" Anne asks before Louis can even think of the words.

Louis shifts forward to sit on the edge of the chair. He glances up at doctor and their eyes briefly meet. The surgeon shakes hands with Louis before offering her hand to Liam and then Anne. "I'm Dr. Clinton. As you know, I performed Harry's surgery today. Everything went extremely well. I was able to remove the faulty area of the temporal lobe without any complications. It went as smoothly as intended. Right now, he's still under light sedation, but at this time he is awake and being moved into a room as we speak. There isn't much more to explain to you. The rest of the information will be collected as we observe him. At the absolute minimum, I can have him out of here and home in about five days, but only time will tell. The longest period of time is two weeks." She smiles. "I imagine you would like to see him, so if you would, follow me."

The three of them follow behind the surgeon, who is still dressed in her dirty scrubs. There isn't much staining her clothing aside for a few splats of blood and some undefined liquids.

 Louis walks behind Anne, side by side with Liam.

"I do have to warn you that when you go in, you need to be quiet and gentle. I'm not sure if his speech has been affected. He may not speak to you or interact with you today, but as his strength comes back, which it gradually will, he'll slowly start to recuperate and regain the abilities that have been weakened by the surgery," she explains as they walk down the corridor. "Nothing you see today will be permanent. I also have to tell you that he's going to look a bit rough. He has a scar on his head and it's still very red and there may be blood that seeps through the incision. The incision is being held together with staples, but at this time there is a dressing covering the incision sight. He isn't hooked up to any machines other than an I.V and a heart rate monitor. At this time, he also has a nasal cannula in to provide him with a bit more oxygen. Prior to right now he did have a breathing tube in to ween him off of the anesthetics, so his throat may be sore."

Louis can't help his curiosity. "Will the scar always be noticeable?"

"Yes, but only to a certain extent. Right now it's puffy and red, but as time goes on the scar will fade to his skin color and hair will grow back over it," she sighs quietly. "You need to be aware that changes due to this surgery are okay. His behavior may shift and his ideal self-confidence might be lacking, but you also have to realize that he's just had intense surgery on his head. As I said before you need to be gentle." She stops in front of a closed door. "We've provided him his own room as we usually do for patients who've undergone brain surgery. I can only let one of you go in at a time. I don't want to overwhelm him. Decide your order and then go in. Visiting hours end at eight and if you need anything just hit the call button. Also, please if you have any questions don't hesitate to ask. The ladies at reception have my personal number. Now, I must go. I have another surgery to prepare for. It was nice meeting you all." She offers one more smile and wave before disappearing down the hallway.

"I'll go last." Louis declares, already finding a seat outside the room.

It's decided that Anne goes in first and Liam goes in second. Each of them takes about five minutes to visit with Harry while Louis sits drowning in his own anxiety.

When Liam comes out, Louis asks, "How is he?" He would have asked Anne had she not been so emotional.

"He's alright. Tired and confused, but he's alright. He's talking a bit. He looks rough and that scar is a bit of a monstrosity."

Louis nods, "You guys can go home. I'll finish up here."

He goes in without a response to his suggestion. He stops in the doorway when his eyes fall on Harry and he finds his mind whirling to every other time he's had to visit Harry in the hospital.

Harry can hardly lift his head up, in fact his head is propped up, at least a thirty degree angle, but he does manage to move a bit when Louis walks in. His eyelids are hooded over his eyes, forcing his green irises to appear only as slits. There's swelling and bruising beginning to encase his eyes, forcing them to take on a almond shape. His loud breathing is the only noise flooding the room.

"Hey love." Louis whispers and he slowly walks to Harry's bedside, trying not to startle him.

Harry shifts his head to look at Louis. He looks as though he's going to fall asleep any second. Perhaps, Louis should have been the first one to visit him. "How are you feeling baby?" His eyes avoid the scar. He can't bring himself to look at it. The incision is only proof that Harry has been struggling and he doesn't like to think about it. Granted, it is covered, but it still makes Louis uncomfortable.

Harry stares at him and blinks in replication. He doesn't make an attempt to speak.

"Harry. Do you know who I am?" Louis asks, warily.

Harry shakily points to the flowers. His hand trembles with effort. "No, no. I'm not the one who brought the flowers in. That's Liam love. I'm Louis."

"N...o," Harry's voice breaks, losing its strength, in the middle of the word. "P...pr...pretty."

"They are pretty." Louis agrees.

Harry shakes his head. His eyes narrow as the frustration coursing through his mind spans across his facial features. He points at Louis and then looks back at the flowers.

"Babe, maybe you ought to sleep. You're exhausted."

"You...pretty."

"I'm pretty?"

Harry nods this time.

Louis has the unnerving thought that Harry really doesn't know who he is. "Do you know who I am?"

"Low," Harry shakes his head at the mispronunciation of the word. Louis arches an eyebrow, but remains collectively patient. "Lou." He squeaks out.

Louis smiles, leans forward, and presses his lips to Harry's forehead. "That's right. Go to sleep baby. I'll be right here when you wake up again. I love you.”

When he leaves the hospital that night the realization hits him. The next two months will be rough, but as long as he's got support and Harry everything will be alright. It's going to take time for Harry to recover and now they have all the time in the world, time the both of them deserve to spend together.

Louis really doesn’t think he would want life to be any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFnIBBVWbMw


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning. There's a tiny mention of blood towards the middle.

Louis presses his lips to Harry's forehead. "I love you." He whispers.

Harry had made the executive decision of shaving the remainder of his head. The nurse that did it had nimble fingers, carefully avoiding the incision sight as she ran the clippers over the thick curls that remained. It was hard for Louis to watch, but Harry had begged him to stay for it.

The scared expression that has crossed Harry's face convinced Louis to stay and hold his hand as tight as he ever had.

Harry looked rather different without his infamous hairdo. The lack of hair made his complexion pasty.  His eyes were a dull color of green as a result, though it could be from the fact that he'd been laid up in the hospital bed for close to a week, but he still looked beautiful.

As the clippers buzzed, Harry had become worried Louis would want to leave him, but all Louis had to say was, "Babe, I was never here for your looks. I've been here for your golden heart", and Harry quit questioning Louis' motives.

He's been asleep more than he's been awake, granted the doctors say that that certain aspect of the procedure will fade in a matter of days.

The hospital moved him out of intensive care on Saturday once they made sure he was stable enough and his incision sight looked well enough.

Louis typically comes in as soon as visiting hours start, sits with Harry for hours, and then heads home once one of Harry's nurses tell him that it's time to go because visiting hours have ended. Harry will usually wake up multiple times during Louis' visit and stay awake for an hour or so before his eyelids start to droop and his head bobs forward. Usually, he's vaguely disoriented for the first five minutes and he has trouble saying exactly what he wants to when Louis talks to him, which is one of the various side effects they had been warned of.

It isn't as though he stutters or has an accumulated lisp. It's not to that extent, but he does pause in the middle of sentences and fumble over his own words, sometimes forgetting how to pronounce certain words. Thankfully, Louis has been assured that it will fade as Harry recovers.

_"Harry. I don't know what you're trying to say babe." He had said one day as he intently watched his boyfriend struggle to move his mouth to form a word._

_The doctor that had been in prior made a point of telling Louis to help him sound it out, but not to complete tasks or answer questions for Harry without fully understanding the request._

_"Axe."_

_Louis arched an eyebrow, "Axe?"_

_Harry shook his head in defeat as he slumped back into the mattress. Louis sat quietly as he recollected what they had been talking about previously. They had been talking about Harry's release date from the hospital. "Hm...axe, axe. Oh! Ask?"_

_Harry nodded eagerly._

_"Say it again for me love."_

_"Axe."_

_Louis shook his head, "That's okay. That's okay. Listen to how I'm saying it sweetheart. Ask."_

_"Aks."_

_"Good, good. That's closer," He pointed to his lips, guiding Harry's eyes to focus on him. "Watch how my lips move. Ask."_

_"Ak...Ak," Harry sighed as he continued to sound the word out. "Ask."_

_Louis clapped his hands together. "And there you go! Good job."_

"Louis?"

His head pops up at the sound of his own name. "Good morning mum."

He sees Anne walk inside of the hospital room barring a bag of greasy fast food.

"I bought some breakfast sandwiches from McDonald's if you're interested," She sets the bag down on the cabinet on the opposing wall of the bed. "How are you this morning?"

"I'm doing alright and yourself?"

"I'm okay," she pauses briefly. "I'll tell you what; I don't know how you boys stay in hotel rooms for eight months out of the year. Those mattresses are rubbish."

Louis thinks for a moment before offering, "Anne, if you would like to, you can stay with us. I can promise our mattresses won't have springs stabbing you in the back."

"I don't want to intrude." Her eyes shift to watch Harry as he sleeps. His chest moves with ease each time he draws in a breath and emits an exhale. A soft smile crosses her lips as she monitors her son.

There has never been a family like the Styles' and Twist's, both families are entirely polite and any one of them would take the shirt off their back for those less fortunate. Anne knows how to choose gentlemen to marry; both Des and Robin are respectful men.

She raised her children in such a way that neither ever complains nor acts rude towards others. The only fault she had was never teaching them how to stand up for themselves.

Louis was the one who taught Harry how to find respect for himself without being rude to others. He taught him how to ignore the obnoxious headlines and the savage comments rather than to have him embarrass himself in the process of attempting to deny what people were saying about him.

Gemma simply taught herself. She's a tough girl and even though her brother is one of the most famous pop stars at the moment she never lets the effects that come from having a famous brother faze her.

"You're not intruding. I'm inviting you," Louis says with a soft smile. He reaches forward, takes her hand in between his and pats gently. "Please, Anne, it's the least I can do. I have no idea how much longer Harry's going to be in here and I honestly don't know if I'll be able to take care of him by myself once he does come home. Accept my offer please?"

Anne glances down at their touching hands and she lets out a quiet laugh, "You're quite charming, I can see why Harry's so keen on being with you," she jokes. "Fine. If you insist, I'll come stay with you. Though, I'm not sure how Harry will feel about this."

"I don't mean to sound disrespectful, but, " Louis starts, hesitantly, as he carefully plans out his words. "I don't care. He's not going to like a lot of what's going to happen from here on out mum. That's the way it's going to be, but these things need to happen."

Instead of getting angry with him or disagreeing, she simply nods, taking a seat in one of the chairs near Harry's bed.

Now that he's out of the intensive care unit more than one person are allowed in the room, provided that it's not filled to the brim with equipment and Harry's past the point of feeling overwhelmed.

"You're absolutely right. I didn't expect for you to realize the responsibility of the situation early on. I apologize for doubting you."

"I was sat in bed last night and I recognized that in order for Harry to feel better I can't constantly try to do what I think is right for him. I need to listen to his doctors."

Louis glances towards Harry and he sighs quietly to himself. "I think tour will be rough."

"I don't think tour will be rough. I believe talking to your management about making arrangements will be hard," she takes a lengthy pause. "You're looking too far into the future. Don't worry about any of that right this second sweetheart."

Louis nods and makes his way towards the paper bag sitting on the counter. He withdraws a sausage and egg breakfast sandwich from the bag and sits back down in a chair nearby Harry's bed.

"Thank you for this." Louis holds the wrapped sandwich in the air, so Anne can see what he's thanking her for.

"I figured you hadn't eaten breakfast yet," she points out, "How have his eating habits been?"

"They're continuing to keep his portions small and the food itself soft as of now. He's not throwing up anymore, which is an accomplishment on its own."

"Most definitely." Anne agrees.

Louis unwraps his breakfast and allows a satisfied noise fall out of mouth once he takes a bite of the greasy food.

A comfortable silence falls in between the two of them. Louis peers up every few minutes to look at Anne.

She's sitting beside the bed and her hand gently caresses Harry's cheek. She murmurs what sounds like some sort of nursery rhyme under her breath. The amount of love she has for him is truly evident, it shows no matter how old children get she will always truly care for them.

It breaks Louis' heart, to think about a mother who has unconditional love for her son through the entire span of his uncontrollable lifestyle. He can't fathom the emotional pain of having a son, who is helpless with epilepsy, and be unable to help him and control it.

He hears Anne suddenly take in a shaky breath and he glances up for a longer interval of time. He sees her wipe at her eyes quickly as though she's trying to take away from the fact that she's on the verge of crying.

He hesitantly asks, "Anne. Are you alright?"

"Yeah I'm," she sniffles and shakily exhales. She turns her head away from Louis. "I'm fine."

Obligation runs its course through him, his conscience tells him to get up and comfort her, which he does. He moves around the bed and shuffles to stand behind Anne. His hand rubs circles onto her back.

"What's wrong?" He whispers, his voice sounding genuinely concerned.

"Sometimes I have these sudden realizations," she starts off. "Occasionally I forget Harry has epilepsy and when I do forget there's always that reminder that Harry is ill and he’s not normal, nor will he ever be normal. I suppose I’m having one of those realizations now,” A particularly strangled cry leaves the back of her throat and Louis winces at the inhumane noise. He adjusts both of his hands to rest on her shoulders and he gently kneads the tense muscles. “It’s hard to have a son like Harry. I’m his mother and I love him, incredibly so, but I take one look at him and I can’t help but feel sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Louis asks, his hands freezing on Anne’s shoulders. “What are you sorry for?”

“There had to have been something I could have done to prevent this,” she gestures to Harry with a trembling hand. “I tried my best during my pregnancy. I never drank. I never smoked. I tried to eat as healthy as I could. What did I do wrong Louis? Why does my son deserve this? I think about it every day. There has to be something I could have done differently.”

Louis swallows, “I – I don’t…”                                                                                                                                                    

“Out of anything he could have been given. He was given epilepsy?” Her hand covers her face and she laughs humorlessly into the palm of her hand. “I prayed to God, begging that it was a mistake, that he had, by chance, been misdiagnosed or that perhaps it would fade in time, but it never did. I sometimes wonder if I’m being punished for my sins.”

“What sins could you have possibly committed?”

There’s a highly evident tension in the room. Louis isn’t the most religious person in the world, hell; he’s not even remotely religious. He’s declared himself as agnostic since he was about fifteen years old. With atheist friends and a mother who, sort of, believes there’s a heaven and God it’s easier to declare himself as agnostic, therefor he’s found some middle ground and he can’t be wrong about what lurks around the corner of death.

It’s surprising he’s ended up with Harry considering their different associated religious backgrounds, Harry wears a bloody cross around his neck at all times whereas Louis has never once read the bible, couldn’t tell anyone the Ten Commandments, and he’s almost sure he would burst into flames if he stepped into a church.

Though, Harry doesn’t mind any of this because “people are meant to be different and form opinions” and “nobody knows what the truth is”. The Styles’ aren’t exactly the most abiding Catholics as it is, considering their son is gay and their daughter uses more profanity than the dirtiest sailor there ever was.

“I don’t know,” Anne whispers. “I must have done _something_ wrong; out of all the things God could have graced Harry with he cursed him with Epilepsy. I just don’t understand.”

Louis sighs, takes a step away from Anne, and plops down in the chair beside her, “Sometimes it’s hereditary.” He points out. “That’s Harry’s reason for never wanting to be the father for a surrogate mother.”

“Nobody on my side of the family has a history of epilepsy or any sort of brain disorders for that matter. I don’t know where it possibly came from.”

“What about on Des’ side of the family?”

The two of them are never going to get down to the initial cause of Harry’s epilepsy, it doesn’t work that way, but the thought process is helping move the anxiety and tension out of the atmosphere.

“I don’t believe so.”

“But you don’t know for fact,” Louis pauses. “There very well could have been or perhaps one of you was a carrier of it.” He remembers briefly learning about genetics in his A levels, but he doesn’t recall exactly what chromosomes carried what disorders and mutations or how certain genotypes and phenotypes formed.   

“Perhaps.” Anne concurs and she falls silent for several seconds as does Louis. As she begins to speak again she takes in a deep breath, “You know, Desmond was a marvelous father, he truly was and I don’t blame him for leaving when Harry was young. He tried his hardest to stay and help out, but it’s a hard life to have a son with epilepsy. As you know, it’s not easy to see someone you love in such an awful position. I’m grateful that he’s rekindled his bond with Harry.”

Louis nods, “Yeah. It is hard to deal with sometimes.”

 It’s a large burden, but that’s not to be misinterpreted into something else. Harry is not a burden, his horrendous disorder is.

“I always told Harry that if someone couldn’t accept him entirely for whom he is than they weren’t worth a relationship. Unfortunately, you can’t pick what parts of Harry you want and you don’t want.  You seemed to have learned that incredibly fast. I wish everyone else were more like you Louis.”

“I love him. There’s not a simpler way to express it,” His eyes trail over to watch Harry as he sleeps. He leans over and allows his fingertips ghost the surface of Harry’s arm. “You know, he told me about all of his _so-called_ friends who mistreated him because of the epilepsy.”

“Yes. It’s rough to explain to your son.” Anne visibly sighs.

“What is?”

“The reasoning behind why he has no friends.”

That’s a stab to the heart. Louis almost winces at the truth of reality Anne has laid out for him. Certainly, that’s a good reason for not wanting to talk about childhood.

“But I don’t blame them. It’s a scary scenario. Nobody wants to see their friend shaking on the floor and gasping for air,” she swallows harshly. “I look at Harry and I see a scared little boy who had his heart broken too many times to count. I often get vivid images of the bad accidents he’s had caught in my mind.”

Louis’ eyes glaze over slightly with unformed tears. He pulls his focus back to Anne. “Like what? He doesn’t speak much about seizures of the past.”

_“Mum!” Gemma shouted as she appeared beside her mother with her little brother by her side, as he always was. Their fingers were intertwined and it had been evident that anywhere Gemma intended to go, Harry would be following along. Gemma was still taller than Harry by half a foot, but that would end in a matter of years and Harry would be taller than her by nearly a foot. Gemma had only been eleven at the time. Harry had been nine._

_Anne turned to face the menacing duo and she smiled at her two beautiful children. “Yes darling?” She crouched down, hands on her knees, and leveled her eyes with Gemma’s, but instead her focus landed on Harry. “Oh no love. What is your sister possibly up to now?” She bopped Harry’s nose with her index finger and Harry giggled in replication._

_“Mum! There’s this big ride that Harry and I want to ride. It’s big and it looks like a spaceship and it spins around really fast and it looks like so much fun! Can we ride it? Can we? Can we? Please!”_

_Anne had taken the two of them to the fair that traveled into town. They enjoyed going and it was a chance to get both of her adoring children off of her back while she walked around and explored the fairground._

_“Alright, alright. How many tickets do I need to give you?”_

_Gemma thought for a second, “It’s four.”_

_“A person?” Anne asked in outrage. “Goodness gracious. This fair is cheating me out of all of our tickets already,” she slipped her hand into her front jean pocket and withdrew a stack of neon orange tickets. She counted eight out before slipping into Gemma’s clammy hand, knowing they would be more secure with Gemma than Harry. Gemma happened to be more organized and responsible than her youngest._

_“Thank you!” Gemma hugged her mum with one arm as her other one was occupied by her little brother. “I love you.”_

_Harry laughed, “Mumma!”_

_“I love you both,” Anne kissed her daughter’s forehead and then she leaned in to kiss the top of Harry’s head, but Harry beat her to it by kissing the tip of her nose. She laughed at her little boy. “Be careful now, you hear me? I’ll be over here if you need me and I expect the both of you to come back over here once you’re done.”_

_“Yes mum. We’ll be back. Thank you!” Gemma cheered. “Come on Hazza!” She tugged her brother towards her as she ran through the throngs of people to get in line for the ride._

_The ride looked like a space ship and it **did** spin rather quickly. The inside walls were cushioned with black lining and the bottom dropped out as the ride gained momentum, making its passengers feel as though there were a loss of gravity as the high speed pinned them to the walls. _

_“This is going to be so much fun! Aren’t you excited?!” Gemma squealed as she led Harry._

_Anne smiled at the two of them and called out another reminder as they gradually skipped out of her sight, “Be careful!”_

_She turned to face the art and clothing stands once again. She felt as though she were too old for thrill rides and greasy food stands, but that wouldn’t stop her from bringing her kids to every fair she could. She found great pleasure in browsing the pieces of art and jewelry the stands the fair had to offer._

_A cloth bag suddenly caught her attention. It was tie-dye and white speckled elephants had been sewn into the hues of blue, green, and yellow. Her hands gently skimmed the bag as she rubbed the cloth between the pads of her thumb and index finger. “This is very pretty.” she noted to the man standing just beneath the tent._

_“It’s handmade.” He smiled at her. He had an accent, but Anne couldn’t exactly detect where he was from. Certainly it wasn’t an English accent, but it was soothing to listen to. The man was no older than twenty and his skin was a dark shade of ebony and undoubtedly flawless. His eyes were filled to the brim with curiosity._

_She met his eyes. “That’s incredible. Did you make it?”_

_“My mother did. She lives in West Africa. Nigeria.”_

_Anne smiled, “Well, it’s beautiful. Your mother is extremely talented. How much are you asking for the bag?”_

_“Fifteen pounds.”_

_“Only fifteen? I’ll definitely have to buy it then,” She withdrew her wallet from her back pocket, pulled out a crisp twenty pound note, and handed it to the young gentlemen. “Here you are. Go ahead and keep the change.”_

_The boy proudly held the note in his hands. “Thank you ma’am. This is very generous.”_

_“No, thank you, have a lovely day sweetheart.” She supposed she allowed him to keep a five dollar tip, though it was hardly a lot of money, because he reminded her of Harry. The curiosity in his eyes forced images of her very own son to flood her mind. She found herself thinking of the young adult’s mother. She wondered briefly if she was proud of him for making a business out of her art._

_Anne was proud of Harry and she knew Harry could and would achieve great thing one day._

_All she wanted was for the young man’s mother to find the same pride, like the kind she felt when she saw Harry, in her own son for bringing home money to support himself and his family. She hoped, for the young boy’s sake, that he would accomplish satisfying his mother to such an extent._

_She pulled the bag off of the hook it sat on and she adjusted it lay across her elegant frame. The strap fit perfectly across her body and the bag rested against her hip. The contents of her pockets; her car keys, her phone, her wallet, and the kids’ tickets, were soon after placed into the bag._

_Many stands were amongst her and she stopped at each one, even if it was for a short period of time. She browsed through many art collections, clothing and purse selections, and jewelry showcases before one had especially caught her eye. It was a handmade jewelry stand._

_The talent certain people possessed was something Anne could never fathom. The jewelry was beautiful. A certain pendant caught her eye and she picked the necklace up. The chain intertwined itself around her fingers and the pendant lay in the palm of her hand. The charm was a hamsa, a North African symbol, otherwise known as an upside down hand with an eye sitting in the center of the palm. It symbolized protection._

_Immediately she thought of Gemma because it looked like something she would enjoy._

_But, the necklace dropped to the countertop with a thud as she heard an urgent shout of her name._

_“Anne? Is there an Anne Cox around here?” She turned around quickly, looking for the person who owned the voice shouting her name. It wasn’t one of her children; instead it was a gruff Englishmen’s voice._

_The disembodied voice came closer into her vicinity but she still could not recognize who was shouting her name. “Hello? Is there an Anne Cox over here? Anne?”_

_“I’m over here!” She called back, taking multiple steps forward._

_A silence fell in between both her and the man shouting for her, as though he had found her and was moving in as she stood stationary._

_This proved to be true as a man in a dark blue polo and a pair of stained khaki pants shoved his way through a heap of people and approached her. He blatantly worked for the carnival, which only heightened her fear. Something was wrong; she could feel it in the pit of her stomach._

_“Are you Anne?” The unnamed man asked, panting._

_She hesitantly answered, “Well, I suppose it depends. Why do you need to know?”_

_“Your daughter told me I could find you over here. Do you have a son?”_

_“Shit,” she drew in a sharp breath, shutting her eyes tightly. She thought possibly there was a chance she was hallucinating due to dehydration or something else impossible at that moment in time. Her eyes fluttered open. “Yes. I do.”_

_“Harry?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“You’re going to want to follow me.” he nodded for her to follow him, taking her answer as authorization to lead her through the mass group of young adults with sun-kissed skin and revealing clothing._

_“Tell me what’s going on.”  She demanded._

_“Your son had a seizure on one of our rides. The woman running the ride is calling an ambulance at this time. We’re attempting to evacuate the area as of now.”_

_Anne shook her head, “My son has epilepsy. You don’t need to call an ambulance. Tell her to cancel the call.”_

_“He busted his head open.”_

_“On **what**? Aren’t your rides child friendly?”_

_She felt sick, as though she were going to throw up. Harry was injured and injuries never mixed well with epilepsy._

_“Yes. Child friendly. Not epilepsy friendly, I’m afraid. He shouldn’t have been on the ride in the first place. There’s flashing lights and it spins quite rapidly. You shouldn’t have allowed him on it.”_

_“You sound awfully condescending. Do not tell me what my son should have been doing and what he should not have been doing. He is **my** son.”_

_The man quit speaking after that point, momentarily afraid for his life, but mostly because he didn’t want to upset the distressed mother anymore._

_Once the two of them arrived in front of the ride, Anne paused as she looked at the scene. It was vacant, there were no bystanders, and it had indeed been evacuated as promised. The door leading inside the spaceship was open._

_She didn’t vocalize another word as she went up the railing and climbed up the few stairs leading inside the humidified ride._

_As soon as she stepped place into the ride, she found her daughter and a middle-aged woman, most likely a carney, on their knees beside her son. Gemma’s hands and shorts were saturated with blood, her brother’s blood._

_“Mum,” Gemma cried, her complexion flushed and her cheeks stained with wet tears. “He isn’t waking up. I don’t – I don’t know if he’s breathing.”_

_“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Anne whispered and she dropped to her knees beside her daughter with a dull thud. She held her hand in front of Harry’s mouth. “He’s breathing. It’s alright. Harry? Sweetheart? Can you hear me? Can you wake up for mummy?” She touched her son’s cheek, gently patting the abnormally clammy flesh._

_The carney brought herself to her feet, “I’m going to go outside to lead the paramedics in when they come.” She said as she walked out of the ride._

_She was entirely ignored._

_“What happened, Gemma?”_

_“He was okay when I looked at him and when I looked over at him again he was shaking really badly,” she sniffles. “So I told the lady to stop the ride because something was wrong with Harry and he just fell and I didn’t know he hit his head until my hand had his blood on it.”  She was in full on hysterics at that point, sobbing miserably. “I’m sorry mum. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he was going to get hurt. I wasn’t careful. I’m sorry. This is my fault.”_

_“Shh, baby. Shh. Gemma it’s alright. It’s not your fault darling. Harry’s going to be just fine. I promise.” She readjusted her hand to rest on Gemma’s back, rubbing circles into the weeping girls back._

_“Did he – was that one of those seizures you and daddy always use to talk about?”_

_Anne had never allowed Gemma to witness one of Harry’s seizures, always removing her from the room when one started. She had tried her best to keep Gemma in the dark of what really happened when Harry was sick or tired or exposed to some other element that triggered his neural activity causing it to lose control._

_Gemma was never a remotely stupid girl. She knew there was something wrong with her brother. She knew that he was sick. She never understood why she had to go to school and Harry didn’t. That certainly wasn’t fair, but when her Anne told her that Harry went to a special school, Gemma simply let go of the idea that Anne loved Harry more and went on with her busy preteen life._

_Anne hesitated at first, “Yes Gemma that’s what daddy and I always talked about.”_

_“Is that what’s wrong with Harry?”_

_“Yes. That’s what’s wrong with Harry.”_

_"Is that why Harry goes to a special school?"_

_"Yes Gemma. Now please quit asking questions for right now."_

_She had never let on to Gemma that the special school was really schooling at home for Harry. She wouldn't tell her until Gemma was older._

_"Mum?" Gemma asked curiosity in her voice._

_Anne shook her head as she thought deeply. Harry's head was going to need stitches and there was a possibility of a concussion, "Not now Gemma, please."_

_"Mum. Why is Harry shaking again?" Gemma asked and Anne's eyes widened in horror as she looked towards her son._

"That would be how we found out he was photosensitive." Anne tells Louis.

"That explains why, when we went to the carnival a while back he would only ride a few of the rides." Louis says, having a sudden epiphany.

Anne included, "Yes and rides that spin and jerk seem to disorientate him as well."

Louis shakes his head, "He feels guilty because he feels like he ruins everyone's fun. I wish I could show him otherwise. Did they ever tell you he would grow out of it?"

"With epilepsy there isn't any way to tell. All I've ever been told is Harry could very well wake up one morning and never have another seizure again, but it's only a possibility. It will never be a certain assumption." she looks at Harry. "I think about all the things he's missed out on because of it. He was never able to play sports, anywhere with flashing lights were an absolute no goes; he felt so awful some days that he wasn't able to go to football games or concerts."

"Try to look at the positives of things Anne, that's what I do when I get upset about his condition. Look at him he auditioned for a singing show and now he's in one of the biggest boy bands, ever. I'm thankful to have him in my life."

"He almost didn't audition for X-Factor. He had had a seizure a few days prior to the first audition and I told him if he wasn't well enough that he would have to wait until the next year, but you know Harry, he insisted on going even though he was still a bit poorly. I never expected him to make through the first audition yet he made it all the way to TV." She smiles to herself. "I still think the best thing that came out of it was the fact that he met you. You're the best person he could have met and you two are engaged now. It's unbelievable to me."

"I never expected to meet such an amazing person. This is the longest relationship I've ever been. I'm grateful I'm marrying him."

Anne smiles at him, "I'm glad you're marrying him too. I've always accepted and enjoyed watching the two of you grow together."

Louis goes to reply, but a voice cuts him off, "Am I interrupting?"

He turns his head in the direction of the voice and he sees Doctor Richards standing in the doorway, apoplectic smile on her face.

"No, not at all. What can we do for you?" Anne asks before Louis can manage a rude, sarcastic comment.

"I've spoken with Harry's nurses and we've mutually discussed that we would like to send him home by tomorrow afternoon. Tomorrow makes it a week since the procedure and I think he'll recover faster once he's home," she says. "I would like to discuss the home care with the both of you. Do you have a few moments to come to a private counseling room? I'd rather not disturb Harry at this time."

Louis and Anne exchange an agreeing look and they both stand up. Louis presses a kiss to Harry's forehead, mumbling a quiet 'I love you' against his skin. Harry scrunches his face at the contact, but doesn't awaken, instead shifts his position.

"Lead the way."

Dr. Richards nods and shuffles back out into the hallway, both Anne and Louis follow her down the long sterile hallway until they reach the end of the corridor where offices line the walls.

She stops in front of one that has her name engraved into the wood.

"Do come in and make yourselves comfortable," She presses and then she hauls open the door, allowing herself inside. She walks around the desk in the center of the crammed room and she takes a seat in the suede chair behind it.

There's a large black futon that sits in front of the oak wood desk. Louis takes a seat on Anne's left side.

"I'm having flashbacks of secondary school." He exclusively tells Anne to which she cackles unexpectedly. She covers her mouth at the prevalent noise. "All that's missing is a principal yelling in my face."

Anne smiles at him as Dr. Richards flips through multiple files. She stumbles across one and withdraws it from the filing cabinet. Laying it out in front of her, she glances over the name one more time before opening the Manila envelope. "So, as I said before we plan on releasing Harry tomorrow afternoon, presumably around three, we're allowing him home because he's met all the standards finally."

Louis frowns, "What are the standards?"

"The standards for being discharged are the capability of eating, walking and urinating as well as making sure the wound is healing. We've had nurses around consistently to aid him and he's been gradually regaining his strength. He went on a short walk yesterday and a nurse accompanied him to the bathroom. I'm impressed with his progress," Dr. Richards says. "From there I need to discuss the home recovery to you both. First of all, which one of you is primarily going to be helping him?"

"Well, we've decided that Anne's going to come stay with Harry and I for a while until we can get him settled at least."

"That's exactly what I was about to recommend," Dr. Richards smiles softly. "Generally full recovery will take a few months, but after about a month in a half Harry will be permitted to return to work."

"I have a question," Louis says and waits for Dr. Richards’s nod of approval. "What does full recovery include?"

"It varies from patient to patient, but in Harry's case he's struggling to talk and form words and I've also noted weakness in his legs when he walks and stands, so that may take more time to recover from. Sometimes these abilities come back on their own, but in other cases I have a speech therapist or a physical therapist come in to help strengthen the patients. But as I said previously it depends on the person and Harry very well may recover on his own."

Anne nods slowly, "Is this going to affect his singing vocals?"

"I don't believe so, but I can't be sure. I've never had a pop star patient." Dr. Richards smiles softly. "Once he's permitted to return to tour, I'll excess his mental and physical state and from there we'll decide the limitations. I do request that there is some form of medical assistance on call at all times. Recovery is lengthy and I can't promise an exact timeline of events."

Louis sighs quietly. All he can hear in the back of his mind is the heated argument that went down over the phone two days ago. Management had not accepted the fact that Louis had outed himself and Harry. They had been attempting to call for days prior, but Louis refused to take any phone calls from anyone but the boys or his immediate family. He had finally given in, tired of the obnoxious voicemails being left on his phone and the text messages from the other boys that all said the same thing, 'Call management.'

He had called them and replied with, _"Piss off. I did the right thing. We've been closeted for five years and I'm sick of the abuse. If you want to drop us from the label, fine, I don't give a shit, my fiancé, your money maker is seriously ill right now. He's recovering from major brain surgery and we don't need to deal with your bullshit. When you have something more agreeable to negotiate, call me back, until then leave Harry and I alone."_

"There are also restrictions, I'll tell them to you, but I'll also send you home with a packet that restates the regulations and guidelines," Dr. Richards says. "We're going to begin weaning him off of the pain medication in preparation for tomorrow. Once he's discharged there will be a great deal of discomfort and headache pain, this will be handled with narcotics for a two to three week time frame. Narcotics can become addictive, so we can only put him on them for a limited period of time. These can cause issues within the bowels, so you can buy laxatives without having to have a prescription and plenty of fluids will help. After he's taken off the narcotics, he'll be able to take acetaminophens such as Tylenol as well as non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs like Advil and Motrin.”

Louis glances towards Anne as though ensuring she’s paying as much attention as he is. She watches the doctor intently and he can see the subtle way her face contorts. He thought this was rough for him, but he never took into inconsideration how upsetting this would be for Anne. He should have. She is his mother and deserves a right to grieve for her son. “The legitimate restrictions are simple. He is not to drive until he is given permission from either myself or Dr. Clinton, depending on who’s here when you come for check-ups.”

“He’s had his license suspended for a while now. There’s nothing to worry about.” Louis explains.

Dr. Richards nods, “Very well. Also, I don’t want him sitting for long periods of time. I understand that walking will seem a bit strenuous to him for the time being, but short walks around your home every hour or few hours will do. To increase his strength I recommend increasing the distance a bit every day. This will help him to get back into the routine of everything. Fatigue is incredibly common with this surgery, if he says he’s tired, you are not to deny him sleep, is that clear?”

“Crystal.”

“He’s not to lift anything heavier than five pounds. He’s not permitted to lift _anything_ over waist level. Housework is out of the question for the time being. No vacuuming, ironing, laundry, washing dishes, or anything similar. He’s not to drink anything with an alcohol base. Also, I can’t allow any sexual activity.”

Louis is always gentle with Harry during sex due to the fact there was that one incident where Harry became too worked up during his climax and ended up seizing in the middle of it. It was not an easy mess to clean up and it was rather hard for Louis to actually pull himself out of Harry since ever single muscle in Harry’s body locks up when he convulses. The experience is not something he would like to ever have a repeat of.

Anne hesitantly asks, “Is he going to be able to bathe himself?”

“I won’t make any promises. Again, it depends on the patient. He isn’t permitted to take baths. He’s going to have to take showers; he may need help getting in and out of the shower. I also don’t recommend leaving him alone as that’s a long time to stand up and he may also need help standing up straight. If you so wish, there are companies that make shower chairs which may be more appropriate. He also needs to avoid chlorinated water. Since he has staples, which we plan on taking out in about a weeks’ time, we can’t allow for it to get wet, so he’ll need to wear a cap in the shower. Don’t apply any lotions or creams near the incision sight, but he will be able to wear a hat to cover the scar.”

“That doesn’t sound too hard. I’ll allow him to keep a bit of his dignity and I’ll help him Anne.” Louis says and Anne visibly takes a breath of relief.

Anne smiles softly, “Believe me, I love my son, but there are certain parts of him I never need to see.”

Dr. Richards offers a warm laugh, “There’s only one more portion I need to discuss and you’ll be free to sit back in the room with Harry.”

“Go on then.”

“There are certain symptoms that are not normal and if they develop I recommend you either call me or for an ambulance immediately,” She stresses. “These symptoms include swelling around the incision, if the incision becomes red and hot or begins to drain, difficulty breathing, chest pain, swelling in the legs and calves, fever of 101° degrees, double or blurred vision, vomiting or severe nausea, and severe headaches.” 

“That’s it?” Louis asks, sardonically.

“Yes. That’s it.”

Louis mutters, “Well the recovery time is just a fun time, isn’t it?”

“I realize that it’s a lot to take in, but I promise once you get a handle on things, it’ll be as easy to remember as the back of your hand.”

“Thank you Dr. Richards. Is that all?” Anne asks, sweetly, as she stands up. Louis does the same.

“Yes. I’ll be in sometime tomorrow. It was nice talking with the two of you.” She dismisses the two of them with a handshake.

No other words are exchanged as Anne and Louis make their way back down the elongated corridor and back to Harry’s room. The door is shut and Louis frowns, “What does this mean?”

Anne shrugs her shoulders, “I have no idea sweetheart,” she glances around and sees a nurse walking towards them, “Excuse me miss. Do you have any idea what they’re doing in my son’s room?”

“Oh yes. Katherine was helping him to the bathroom before he ate lunch. I imagine she’s assisting him lay back down at the moment.”

“Thank you.”

The nurse smiles curtly before continuing her walk to her initial designation.

As if to prove the prior nurses loyalty of the situation, a tan woman opens the door and peaks her head out, “I thought I heard the two of you out here. Come in. He’s just about to start eating lunch. I was just on my way out. He’s all settled.”

She smiles at them as she slips by. All of the nurses at the hospital are genuinely pleasant and nice. It’s a nice attempt to get the stress of illness and recovery off of the patients and family members.

Louis shuffles into the room and he stands in the doorway as he curiously watches Harry use his spoon to prod at the food on the tray in front of him. “What do you have their love?” He asks.

Harry jerks and peers up at Louis. A huge smile spans across his tired expression, “Hiii.” He laughs, completely ignoring the question Louis asked him.  He’s oblivious to everything but Louis.

Anne stands beside Louis, though she doesn’t receive an ounce of the attention Louis is receiving from Harry. Granted, she doesn’t mind very much because it seems all Harry is concerned with is his fiancé.

“Hey there,” Louis smiles and he slowly moves across the floor to a seat beside Harry’s bed. “What’s on the menu today babe?”

“I,” Harry glances back down at his food. “no know.”

“You don’t know?” Louis asks, making sure he heard Harry’s answer correctly, and arches an eyebrow. Harry nods. Louis leans forward and plucks the spoon from Harry’s hand.  He then utilizes the spoon to prod at Harry’s food, “I think its chicken soup.”

Anne laughs, “You _think_?”

“I have no idea what it is. Could be chicken, could be rat.”

At the word _rat_ , Harry lets out a groan; Louis’ jokes really aren’t that funny.

Louis gently sets the spoon back down. “Let’s hope it isn’t rat yeah? What did you get for dessert?”

Harry points to the glass dish of something with a beige tint, “It’s pudding.”

“Pudding?” Louis grabs the container and smells it. Setting the dish down with a scrunched up nose, he says, “Smells weird. That’s kind of sketchy.”

Harry scoffs at him, “Ridiculous.” He mutters.

“Easy sunshine, don’t get too enthusiastic,” he knows Harry doesn’t feel well, he’s hoping to gain some ebullience points out of Harry. “I have to tell you something.”

“What?”

“A certain someone is getting released from the hospital tomorrow.”

Harry’s expression shifts and his eyes brighten with excitement. “Willy?” He shakes his head at the mispronunciation. “Really?”

“I wouldn’t be that cruel, Haz. You’re going home! Isn’t that exciting?”

“Be with you.”

“I know baby, you’ll be with me alright. No more lonely nights and the big bed is there waiting for us. Bruce misses you very much.”

Harry giggles and his food becomes forgotten as he reaches for Louis’s hand. “I love you.”

“I love you too, more than anything in this whole world princess.” He presses his lips to Harry’s knuckles. “And I’m going to be there the entire time. Whatever you need, I’ll be right by your side, as always.”

It had been a rough week to get through, with Harry out of it for the majority of the time, and visitors perpetually coming in and giving their unnecessary opinion.

_“He looks bad Lou.” Zayn said._

_Louis turned to glare at him, “Do you mind not talking about him when he can obviously hear you?”_

_Harry had looked unwell, but he looked exceptional considering he had just had his skull cut open and a piece of his brain removed. His head was shaved, the flesh around his eyes was bruised and swollen, and he was a rather pasty color._

_Niall added in, “Is his speech going to get better?”_

_“Lads!” Louis shouted, coercing a startled noise to leave Harry’s lips. He peered over at Harry and, muttered a quick apology. “I appreciate your concern, but if you want to speak with me about him can you wait until he’s not in the same bloody room?”_

_“I just didn’t expect for him to look so rough.”_

_Louis furrowed his eyebrows at Zayn, “I know he doesn’t look like himself right now, but he’ll look better in some time. He just had fucking brain surgery two days ago. You know what; I think it would be best if you guys came back later. I don’t need you two overwhelming him. The visit was nice and the flowers are generous, I’ll find a vase for them, but you guys should hold off on coming for the next few days. Once he gets to come home, I’ll let you guys come over, but for right now, get out.”_

_“Whoa Tommo, we didn’t mean anything by it.”_

_“I know,” Louis sighed, “but if I get stressed then Harry will get stressed and Harry doesn’t need any more stress on his plate right now. So, I’ll see you guys later. Go home. Now.”_

 It’s possible Louis is more excited for Harry to get home than Harry is himself.

He recognizes that the upcoming months are going to be a pain to get past, but he knows that Harry will, no matter what, come through and act like himself again. He’s willing to get through all the excruciating frustration in order to get Harry feeling better.

He has a few ideas up his sleeve and he’s excited to share them with Harry in a few weeks’ time. He figures they’ll value this time to plan their postponed wedding, which will definitely excite Harry more than anything. Hopefully, he can get Harry to cry tears of joy rather than his pained, sad ones.

The two of them, with Anne’s help, will get through it, as they always do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFnIBBVWbMw


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning. Things get a bit uncomfortable. I had a rough time writing the part. It isn't a trigger, just more sad than anything else. No, no one dies.

Louis has been standing in the doorway of the bedroom for only five minutes, but somehow it feels as though several decades have passed. “Is he going to be able to get into bed? I think the guest room might be more appropriate for the time being.”

Preparations for Harry’s discharge have been taking place for the last twenty four hours, though twenty four hours is hardly enough time to get anything accomplished. Between both Anne and Louis taking shifts at the hospital, Louis surprisingly opting for more time at the hospital, and limpidly and conspicuously ignoring outside forces they hadn’t been allotted much time to make many, if any, accommodations for Harry’s arrival.

The only things that they had prevalently managed was installing a metal rail into the shower wall and buying a shower seat to reside on the floor of the slick shower floor, the last thing they needed was Harry slipping and injuring himself.

Even then they had hired a professional company to help with installation after Louis realized that he definitely doesn’t know how to felicitously work a drill.

Harry has always been the one to practice home improvements. Leak on the ceiling? Harry would fix it. Broken washing machine? Harry would fix it. Clogged sink? Harry would fix it. Sure, he wasn’t _extremely_ handy and he would always come back from a home improvement battle with some scrapes and bruises, one time even nearly electrocuting himself, but he always did what Louis asked of him. When they were home it seemed as though Harry did anything to please Louis. He would cook all meals, do all the chores; take the dog for a walk, as they lived in a gated community, and still manage to spend plausible amounts of time with Louis. All Louis had to do was say ‘go’ and Harry would run miles and miles for him.

It isn’t as though Louis is obnoxious or demanding, well not to Harry at least, Harry has always done his best to please Louis. His manners and respect emanate from the way he was brought up, it’s as simple as that. He was taught to treat his spouse, and anyone else associated with his life, with the most love and kindness he could ever give.

That trait would make Harry a candidate for emotional abuse. _Actually_ , it does make Harry a candidate for emotional for emotional abuse. Not from Louis, of course, because Louis would never intentionally harm Harry in anyway, but Harry does take a lot of abuse from social media as well as people around him such as management, fans he meets along the way, and the very own people who see him consistently, meaning the boys.

Sometimes Harry wears blinders, in an endeavor to block horrendous things people have to say out, but he can only do that for so long. He tries not to bother Louis with it, feeling as though Louis does enough for him, but most times he can’t help the tears or the incoherent shouts that come on after reading the same comment perpetually.

Well, at least, now they can’t make crude comments about his hair anymore.

Anne’s soft voice breaks his thoughts, “Why wouldn’t he be able to get into bed?”

“I mean, it is a bit high up isn’t it? His arms and legs are weak as it is; I don’t think he’ll be able to hold himself up to get into bed and the both of us trying to hold all of his weight is going to kill our backs.”

Currently, Anne is pulling a railing out of the box to put on the left side of the bed, known as Harry’s side. She said it was going to stabilize him from falling out of bed.

Louis’s immediate thought when she had brought up a bed railing was, _Harry has never had that issue before, so why would he have it now?_

She sighs quietly at Louis, obviously not in the mood to fall into an argument with him, and she simply places the railing back into the long box, “Okay Louis. I’ll move it to the guest room.”

She looks as exhausted as Louis feels. There are deep discolored patches underneath her eyes, her complexion is pasty with no makeup painted on her delicate features, and her hair is carelessly pulled into a greasy ponytail. She looks nothing like the Anne Louis has known for five years.

Louis hasn’t taken the time to look in the mirror, too afraid of what he might find looking back at him, but he’s sure if he did look he would find a similar sight.

“It’s okay Anne, I can move it,” Louis offers, stepping closer to Anne. He pulls the box away from her and heaves it on his shoulder. The cardboard immediately digs into his collarbone, but he’ll play it off as though he has impeccable strength, which if you ask Harry, he does.  “You can take our bedroom.” Louis motions for her to follow him as though she doesn’t know the structure of their house. She’s been in and out of the house more in the last week than Harry himself has been in for the past year.

“I’d rather not.”

Louis’s eyebrows furrow into the shape of a tight ‘v’, “Why’s that?”

He wants to stop to turn and look at her, but he can’t give up the current momentum he has. The box is unbelievably heavy. It’s almost as if a large metal railing is the contents. _Wait a second_.

“ _Louis_.”

“What? I don’t understand,” he points out. Anne falls silent, not willing to give her brutal reasoning, but then it hits Louis like a ton of bricks. A loud squeaky laugh leaves his mouth, “Anne, I promise Harry and I keep the bed clean. You’re not going to find any -”

She interrupts him mid-sentence, truthfully a bit terrified of where their conversation is heading, “I appreciate your hospitality, really I do, but I’ll use the guest room upstairs if you don’t mind.” Her son’s sex life can stay a mystery to her and she doesn’t mind one bit.

“Of course you can,” Louis smirks to himself. “I’ll help you move your luggage up there later, considering we have to move everything around now anyways. We should not have waited until the last possible moment.”  He opens the door to the guest room and proceeds to walk inside. He drops the package he’s been carrying on the bed.

It’s genuinely a nice room, a bit smaller than the master bedroom, but at least this room is closer to the bathroom. The bathroom’s right across the hall, so now he doesn’t have to fear Harry having as many issues trying to get there.

Shit, the more he thinks about it, the more he cringes at the thought. He knows it’s a major possibility and he isn’t disgusted at the thought of Harry having an accident, but he doesn’t want to deal with the mortification Harry will feel and he doesn’t want to deal with telling Harry that he can’t cry so hard because he might give himself a headache. He won’t mind cleaning it up, he’s had to clean up Harry’s messes before, after seizures, and it isn’t as bad as some people might imagine it to be. Sometimes the accidents are extremely unfavorable and those he tries to forget about.

Harry has been on a catheter for the majority of the time at the hospital, so he hasn’t had to deal with going to the bathroom on his own. But the first night they had taken the catheter out, Harry had wet the bed, which wasn’t a surprise, and Harry had surprisingly done well with it. He wasn’t too embarrassed. The hospital staff had explained that it was very likely that he would have accidents along the way since he hadn’t been going to the bathroom properly.

Granted the knowledge he’d been provided, it still didn’t make the phone call he got in the middle of the night any easy. Nothing would have made that phone call any easier.

_There was a shrill, consistent ringing that interrupted his dream. He groaned, rolled over, and reached for his alarm clock. Though, to his surprise, the noise wasn’t coming from his clock. It wasn’t time for him to get up and start his day yet._

_He sat up, which allowed the duvet to gently slide off of his partially clothed body, and he peered around his room for any indication of what was ringing. Suddenly, it occurred to him, it must have been his cell phone. He had left his IPhone in the front room and the noise sounded like it was coming from a distance._

_Immediately, without even registering what the phone call could be about or who the phone call could be coming from, he legitimately jumped out of bed and sprinted out of his room and down the hallway._

_It was the middle of the night, surely the call was important. He reached the coffee table in the center of the front room in seconds, picked up his phone and managed to accept it before the phone call would be denied. He noticed the number was the one he had saved for the hospital._

_“Hello? Who am I speaking to?”_

_“Louis. Louis Tomlinson. Is Harry alright? What’s wrong?” He raised his hand to his forehead in frustration, rubbing furiously; a small panting noise continuously left his mouth, though he did try to contain it._

_“Hello. Mr. Tomlinson, I’m Harry’s night nurse. You’ve met me before, my names Diana. Harry’s just fine. Take a deep breath and calm down, it’s alright.” She said._

_Louis allowed noise mixed of both frustration and relief to emit from the back of his throat, “If he’s alright, why are you calling me at one in the bloody morning, huh? You nearly gave me a fucking heart attack.”_

_“Harry’s had a bit of an accident tonight. If you could please understand, he’s messed the bed and he’s not coping with that very well tonight. I don’t want to give him a sedative, but I can’t seem to help him calm down, and if he doesn’t calm down I have to give him the sedative which will definitely push his discharge back sometime.”_

_“Shit,” Louis drew in a sharp breath. “How bad was it?”_

_“It was hardly a problem, Mr. Tomlinson. We brought in a new bed and I helped him bathe and change into a new gown. It took only a little bit to get everything settled and I tried reassuring him that it was no problem, but he’s – for lack of a better word – a mess right now. I can’t get through to him. We’re worried that if he doesn’t calm down it’s going to cause stress on the incision sight. Would you be willing to talk to him? I do believe you can help him. You’re our last hope.”_

_Louis sat down on the edge of the couch, continued to rub his face furiously, and finally nodded to himself as he debated what exactly he was going to say to Harry. “Yes. I’ll talk to him.”_

_“Wonderful. Thank you so much,” Diana whispered and then she hesitated, “I have to tell you that you may not be able to fully comprehend what he’s saying. The speech problems he’s developed as well as his current state of mind are severely affecting him right now.”_

_“That’s okay.” Louis said, softly._

_The other side of the line went silent except for the echoing of footsteps and reassuring whispers he could hardly make out. It was obvious Diana had her hand on the receiver._

_It was only moments later that Diana’s voice could be heard again, “Here he is.” The phone was handed off instantaneously and the noise of hitching breaths and shaky sobs filled Louis’s eardrums._

_He’s finally figured out what noise he hates the worst that night. It isn’t the cries that Harry has when he’s seizing, no, he’s not conscious for those. They’re not made on purpose. They’re a side effect of a seizure. On the other hand, the noises Harry was making on the opposite line were the most cringe worthy thing Louis had ever heard. Harry was conscious for those noises. He was making them on purpose. He was in so much distress that he could hardly breathe properly._

_“Hi darling. It’s Louis. What’s going on? Why are you upset my love?”  Louis made his voice as saccharine sounding as he possible could have. Harry seemed to always respond better when Louis spoke in a certain tone of voice. Even after seizures Louis found that if he allowed all senses of panic and worry to leave his tone of voice Harry would respond both easier and faster._

_Harry hadn’t actually formed words to reply to Louis, had hardly even acknowledged his voice, instead his sobs became more prominent and heartbreaking._

_“Easy Haz,” Louis kept his voice just above a whisper. “Sweetheart, I need for you to calm down. Whatever is making you upset right now is something we can fix. I can guarantee that whatever has you so distraught is something you won’t even remember in a few days’ time. Can you tell me what’s going on?”_

_Louis winced at the wheezing leaving Harry’s throat, but he could hear Harry trying to slow down his breathing. He was quietly talking to himself, to calm himself down, but his voice broke off suddenly and the sudden progress was destroyed. “Useless.”_

_“What do you mean useless? You were doing really good there love. Your breathing sounded ace. Try it again. Deep inhale, deep exhale.”_

_“No!” Harry shouted at Louis and Louis instantly recoiled, sinking back into the couch. Even if Harry wasn’t physically with him, the force behind that single shout was actually terrifying. “I’m – I’m –“there was a pause on the line, “you – use? – use - useless.”_

_“You are not useless. Why would you say that? I know you wet the bed tonight Harry, okay? Your nurse told me and I understand that you’re upset right now love. But it’s not important. Nobody cares that you had an accident. Not one person at that hospital is judging you. I’m not judging you. I’m grateful that you’re off of the catheter and making process. If process is wetting yourself then fine. I’ll take that over a permanent need for a catheter. Things could be a lot worse.”_

_Harry’s shaky breaths were the only clue that Harry was still on the other end, until his voice came through again, “I – uh, I – Lou, I – um - I shit – my - myself.” He could almost see the embarrassment cross Harry’s face as the confession passed through his lips. He could picture the blush on Harry’s cheeks. Though, it did sound like the sobs declined in force and sound._

_Louis’s eyes widened a bit at the blunt announcement. He didn’t say anything for quite some time, trying to think of a proper phrase to muster up. What could he have possibly said? “You – um, you shit yourself?” Was the only think he could get to come out and he wanted to punch himself._

_It did explain why Harry was so upset. He had wet himself a countless amount of times during seizures, so often that he and Louis didn’t even pay attention to it anymore. It was part of their routine during the initial part of post-seizure care. It was always a simple clean up. Harry would take a shower once he felt better and Louis would put his soiled clothes in the washer for a thorough wash._

_Now, this was a new aspect Louis hadn’t been prepared to hear. It didn’t bother him. It didn’t make him disgusted. It didn’t make the thought of Harry a turn off. He was shocked. He was shocked that Harry had done that._

_Dr. Richards had told him that it would be a struggle. That the bowel movements would take a while to become consistent and normal again, as the large intestine is the last thing to wake up after major surgery, and that constipation was usually a major struggle in patients who underwent brain surgery._

_“Um – yeah.” Harry whispered._

_Louis swallowed harshly and finally he said, “It’s okay…uh - It’s okay. That must mean there’s been progress too, right? I mean – how did that happen anyways?”_

_“I – well, uhm,” He was still struggling to from words and think sentences through which would continue to be a problem for him. “I couldn’t – didn’t – feel um, feel it?” His voice broke and Louis could sense the tears starting to come again. He needed to keep Harry calm, so they didn’t have to sedate him. If they sedated him then it would be unlikely that Harry would be awake tomorrow during his visit._

_“Hey, hey, don’t start crying on me again, okay? It’s okay Harry. I promise, if it wasn’t okay, I would be the first to tell you. I think that it’s a good thing. You’re recovering and I’m really proud of you. Everything’s sorted out now and there’s no need to feel embarrassed or sad. You’d have to do a lot more than shit the bed to repel me,” Harry sniffles and laughs on the other line which coerced a smile to grow on Louis’s lips. “Are you better now? No more tears?”_

_Harry whispered, “No more.”_

_“That’s my boy. Don’t worry about it. In a few days you’ll be out of that prison and home with me and Bruce, who I’m sure I’ve told you already, deeply misses you. If he could talk he’d be whining your name every other minute, okay? Now, do me a great big favor and get some sleep. You need to get some rest. I’ll be there bright and early in the morning.”_

_“I…love you.”_

_“I love you too babe. Sleep tight.”_

“How does this look Lou?”

Louis blinks a few times as he directs his attention to what Anne’s pointing at. He doesn’t know hold long he zoned out for, but he does know that he zoned out long enough for Anne to get the railing on Harry’ side of the bed.

“It looks nice, fits in well with the décor. It flips down doesn’t it?”

Anne nods and demonstrates how to deconstruct the railing by unlatching the two ends of the brown rail, “Easy as that. Access should be easy for him.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Louis says, passively, as he glances towards the electronic clock sitting on the corner table. “Fuck.”

Anne arches an eyebrow at his sudden outburst, but doesn’t reply as she watches him quizzically.

“It’s nearly 2:30. Where has the time gone? I should probably head to the hospital, so Harry doesn’t think I’m leaving him there. Do you want to come?” Louis asks.

She shakes her head, ‘I’ll finish up with last touches. He still doesn’t know I’m staying does he?”

Louis draws in a sharp breath, “No. I haven’t given him a single clue about it. Hopefully he’s okay with it. I’ll be back in a bit, Anne.”

“Be careful.” She warns and Louis laughs, throwing his head back, and makes his way out to the garage. He stops by the door in the laundry room where a duffel bag sits. Inside is Harry’s change of clothes for today, even though he has a change at the hospital from when he first underwent surgery, Louis thinks his picks are easier to get in than a pair of ripped skinny jeans.

The only uplifting observation of his day is that the garage door is wide open so he doesn’t have to walk across the garage, to the little panel, and open it manually. He’s able to walk to his Porsche, parked in between Harry’s Audi and Anne’s Range Rover, and drive off.

Louis personally is glad Harry doesn’t have a motorcycle in England; he keeps his bike in Los Angeles, for his, as Louis calls it, Macho Bad Boy Act.  Harry isn’t fit to ride a motorcycle; he’s more of the antique car kind of man. Granted, he does own more than a few antique cars and they were more than a pretty penny.  He opens the door to his Porsche, climbs in, and reverses like a spark of light, fast and noticeable.

Besides, with the motorcycle he always had underlying fear of Harry crashing it. He’s clumsy enough without the added fact that he has uncontrolled epilepsy. Well, _had_ uncontrollable epilepsy, if he’s being technical about the matter. Motorcycle crashes terrify him because he knows that a bike can’t withstand the force a car brings when it’s doing eighty down the expressway or even if it’s just turning at a stoplight. One wrong misinterpretation of a street sign, one wrong turn, or one incident where he’s not paying full attention and Harry could very well be in grave danger.

Needless to say, Louis is rather thrilled that Harry is out of a driver’s license because that means he’s also out of luck for his motorcycle license. He doesn’t know when Harry will ever possibly get his licenses back, but he isn’t going to bother asking anytime soon. He doesn’t mind driving Harry around and with his sudden outburst on Twitter things are opt to be changing anyways.

Though, his outburst on Twitter, which occurred exactly one week and two days prior to today, has not yet been handled by management. He hasn’t even been on Twitter or Instagram to see how the fans are reacting to being in the dark for five years. He’d rather not now for the time being, his concern is entirely on Harry and that’s the way it should be. He doesn’t plan on telling Harry that he’s outed the two of them until he’s, at the very least, able to at least walk without assistance.

But, he knows that he needs to be sly about it. He needs to keep Twitter away from him. Perhaps he’ll put locks on Harry’s computer or he won’t give him access at all. He has not yet decided how to go about handling any of this.

And he’s already expecting a knock at the front door one of these days. He’ll open and heads of Modest! Management will be holding briefcases and thick piles of contracts to try and make him feel remorse or guilt. He’s not going to let anything happen without a fight, no matter who he has to get involved or how many loopholes he has to find.

He sighs to himself, nervously taps the steering wheel with his fingertips, and sits at the stoplight. _The spotlight_ in which he will make a left hand turn and will be lead him into the hospital parking structure. This is the last time he’s going to be coming to the hospital like this and he has never been more grateful.

The fans and paparazzi have yet to figure out what hospital Harry’s in. Louis hasn’t seen any girls in One Direction merchandise or slimy men with cameras in hand running about.

That’s another thing he’s thankful for. He’ll be able to get Harry into the car without the extra struggle of cameras, flashing lights, and shoving in his way.

He turns into the parking structure and drives up all the levels until he reaches neurology’s floor parking lot. He parks near the door, in one of the spots that is set aside for patient discharge and plucks his key from the ignition.

Another task on his to-do list is going to the DVLA in order to get a temporary handicapped place card for all their cars, since Harry is marked as being temporarily handicapped for the time being.  Louis cannot stand that word being used to describe Harry. It isn’t as though he hates people with disabilities or he doesn’t feel sympathy for those who are handicapped, he just doesn’t like to use that word to describe Harry. Harry isn’t handicapped. Harry had brain surgery. There happens to be a major difference. 

The other issue he has with it is he’s always viewed Harry as strong and willed, so to hear that word being the only one to describe him for the time being, it’s rough on Louis’s part to keep his mouth shut. He doesn’t understand why it’s not “Harry is strong for making it through this; his temporary disabilities are only a side effect.”

He doesn’t understand why handicapped is viewed as weak. He’s seen some of the fans that are in wheelchairs or in hospitals or struggling with their own issues and they’re stronger than everyone else.

He slowly climbs out of the car and shuffles into the sterile building. He’ll never be able to forget that smell, not as many times as he’s been at the hospital in the past week. He walks down the long corridor, past doctors in lab coats, nurses in scrubs, and patients in wheelchairs before he reaches reception.

He greets the receptionist, not quite recalling her name,” Afternoon.” Her name is something with an S. Stephanie or Sarah or something of the sort.

“Good afternoon, Louis. It’s an exciting morning for both you and Harry, isn’t it? I’ll page Dr. Richards and let her know that you’ve arrived.”

Harry is well liked by all the hospital staff, that is when he’s actually awake and understanding what’s going on around him. He has made major progress from the first time Louis saw him, which was right after surgery. Harry at least acknowledges him with a smile and on a first name basis now.

“If you would like to take a seat you can. She said she’s on her way over.”

Louis nods, takes a seat across from the reception desk, and sets the duffle in between his feet. He can’t help but feel as though he’s in Year 11 again.

He had set a stink bomb off in the girl’s locker room and gotten caught. He risked being expelled from the theatre department, which was the main reason he had attended Hall Cross.

Well, that and he failed his A levels at the other school he had been studying at.

Through all the punishments he endured for that little prank he planted, he still will never regret it. Seeing those girls run out of a locker room, partially clothed, and smelling of old eggs and vinegar was the ultimate highlight of his secondary school career.

His mum hadn’t been very pleased with that stunt, but did forgive him when he apologized for doing something so horrendous to a group of teenage girls. He never meant the apology for the prank, but if it made his mum happy, he would do whatever he had to do to get her to smile.

Sitting in front of the reception desk, in his current predicament, resembles the wait outside the principal’s office he had sat through. He was a mischievous punk, smirk drawn on his sharp features and backpack slung over his shoulder. His fascination with girls had provoked him to do it.

Now, he was a, somewhat, responsible adult, weak smile painted on his face, and his fiancé’s change of clothes sat on the floor beneath him. His fascination with girls was always a lie. He realizes the more he thinks that he never truly fancied them, only ever did anything to aggravate them to please his friends, get a grand laugh out of them. He fancies Harry more than he’s ever fancied any girl.

Harry has really changed him from the troublemaker he used to be. He’s changed him for the better.

“Louis.” The sound of his name pulls him away from his thoughts. He glances up at the owner of the voice and finds Dr. Richards staring down at him. She looks tired, obviously dealing with a long shift, but she still manages a smile. “I’m sorry. Am I interrupting?”

“No, no,” He collects the duffel bag’s strap in his hand and heaves it over his shoulder once he stands up. “I was only daydreaming,” An impuissant laugh leaves his mouth, “How are you?”

“I’m well and yourself Louis?” She asks. He only nods in reply. “Very well. I bet you’re excited to take Harry home today. I know he’s excited to go home with you. If you would please follow me to my office, I have some discharge papers for you to sign as well as some of the medical paperwork to give you. “

He follows her, silently, nearly dragging his feet behind him. All he wants is to grab Harry and take him home. He doesn’t want to deal with any of this medical bullshit any longer.

They arrive to Dr. Richard’s office and it’s only been a day since Louis’s been in her office, but somehow it feels as though an entire lifetime, and then some, have passed.

She resides in the leather seat behind her desk and Louis sits across from her. She first slides him a piece of sturdy stationary paper, text scrawled all over the sheet, as well as a black pen. “This is the official discharge form. Feel free to read through it, but it primarily reads what we’ve already discussed. It talks about home care and understanding of follow-up appointments. If you have questions, feel free to ask me. Once you feel ensured, please sign on the line.”

Louis eyes her carefully as she speaks. He skims over the text and nods to himself. “Alright.” He signs his name on the line, as asked, and slides the form back to her.

“Now, since he won’t need any rehabilitation facilities. We don’t need to discuss shipping him off to a new establishment. “Dr. Richards explains.

“Hold on,” Louis says. “Now if he does end up needing a therapist of some sort, do I come to you or is it something I have to handle on my own?”

“Well, in Harry’s particular case, I’ll be able to evaluate him. So, let’s say you bring him in a few weeks from now, unimpressed with the progress of – let’s say – talking, I will evaluate him and then proceed to recommend therapists for you, whether you need a speech therapist, an occupational therapist, or even a psychologist.”

Louis shakes his head, “A Psychologist?” 

“Yes, a Psychologist. You see, often with brain trauma or surgery, sometimes anxiety or depression become evident due to long periods of isolation and a feeling a lack of independence.” Dr. Richards explains, softly.

“Is there any way to help him from feeling like that? Depression is not something I want to see him deal with.”

“Often, you can heal emotional discomfort and confidence issues with simple tasks. If you allow him to feel companionship and love and you allow him to experience meaningful conversations and activities than I doubt he’ll deal with such issues. Harry is a very loving and sweet man, am I right?” She asks to which Louis nods without hesitation. “It’ll be hard for him to become cold and bitter. You love him very much, which is obvious to not only me, but everyone who works here. He’ll be okay. Don’t worry.”

“Okay. He’ll be okay.” Louis whispers to himself.

“Now, there isn’t anything else for you to sign, but I have information to give to you,” She reaches to a pile of papers, held together with a paperclip, and she hands it off to Louis. “In this is the information for getting your insurance to help you get equipment, should you need to get railings in your home and find they’re a bit pricey, though I doubt that’s much of a problem for you. Also, his prescriptions are on the top as well as his physical information for the DVLA to assist with getting handicap signs. I have information for what emergency signs to look for as well as some helpful pamphlets. Anything else you may need is something we can handle at a later date. Should you need anything else, you do have possession of my personal number feel free to call.”

Louis is pleasantly surprised by all the new information he’s been giving. He’s shocked at how much Dr. Richards is willing to help. He can only manage, “Thank you.”

“Of course. Harry is a very special patient of mine. The two of you are a main priority of mine,” She smiles.  “Harry is free to go home. I’ll have a nurse go to the room to help unhook him from the I.V and to assist you with getting him to the car. Remember that if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call. I’d like to have Harry in for a post-op check up on the 20th if that works for your schedule. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a patient with a Brain Hemorrhage in need of an urgent surgery. I’ll see you and Harry soon.”

Louis watches as she scurries out of the room. He finds himself standing up and hastily walking down the remainder of the hallway to Harry’s room. Harry’s room is the last room on the left. Room 1224.

The door is open and he peeks his head around before walking inside. A nurse arrived to his room far more quickly than Louis had. She’s currently plucking the I.V out of Harry’s hand. After she pulls it out she places a blue bandage over top of where the I.V was inserted.

Harry watches her curiously. He’s obviously still a bit strung out on narcotics because his pupils are blown to the size of a coin, but not nearly as loopy as Louis’s seen him in the past.

“Harry! Look who’s here!” The nurse exclaims, clapping her hands together once she acknowledges Louis’s presence.

Her name is Taylor and she happens to be Louis’s favorite nurse. She’s blunt around Louis, a trait he appreciates very much, but she’s also sweet and gentle around Harry.

Harry’s eyebrows furrow together. He doesn’t quite get it. Taylor has her hands on her hips as she looks between Harry and Louis.

Louis smiles to himself, “Over here babe. My gorgeous face is right here. I know you’re thrilled to see me.”

Harry’s attention shifts to focus on Louis and a lopsided grin crosses his lips. “Louis.”

“Are those his clothes?” Taylor asks, gesturing to the bag Louis has in his hands.  

“They are.”

“Ace. Do you want me to help you change him into them? He’s a bit of a heavy load, stumbles about a lot, kind of like a baby deer, really.”

Louis smiles. That’s a very fair comparison, Harry has always been clumsy, “No, that’s alright.”

“Okay. Well I’m going to go get him a wheelchair, so if you want to help him change while I do that, it would be fantastic.” She walks out of the room.

Louis moves closer to the bed, “Alright, love, my job is to get you out of bed and changed into actual clothes. So, if you could help me out a bit, I would deeply appreciate it, okay?”

Harry’s already lying on top of the covers. Louis has a feeling he’s been ready to go all morning and he made the nurses clear of that too. “Okay.”

Louis sets the duffel down on the bed and he unzips it before moving closer to Harry. “Can you sit up love?”

Harry nods and he moves his hands flat on the mattress before shakily pushing himself up. His arms shake with pressure which is something Louis has never seen Harry do before because Harry’s always been impeccably strong. He didn’t realize quite how weak Harry actually is until today. Sitting up took a lot strength out of him.

Louis hesitates, “All right?”

“F-fine.” Harry swallows harshly and clenches his eyes shut, drawing in a deep breath.

Louis reaches behind Harry and he undoes the tie in the back of the hospital gown. He gently pulls it off of Harry and throws it sloppily on the dresser near the bed. Instantly, he realizes Harry’s naked underneath and he bites down on his lip, convincing himself not to look at Harry’s dick. “I’ve really missed –“

Harry groans, knowing where he’s about to go with it, “ _Louis_.”

Louis laughs, “Sorry,” his face is flushed bright red. “Do you think you can sit on the edge of the bed? I brought sweatpants for you.”

Trying to get Harry clothed is a struggle, Louis didn’t realize how hard it was for Harry to complete simple tasks, like standing up to pull his sweats over his bum. He had to rest his hands on Louis’s shoulders to hold himself up right and even then his knees kept knocking together as though they were going to buckle and give out. Louis had to pull his sweatpants up because he wasn’t able to balance with one hand on Louis’s shoulder.

Getting his shirt on was a bit easier, but it took ages for Harry to lift his arms up enough for Louis to get the shirt to slide onto his broad frame.  Louis had also brought Harry’s Green Bay Packer’s beanie and he slipped it over top of his head. It doesn’t fill out as nice as it did when Harry had his luscious locks, but it makes him look more like Harry.

“How does it feel to wear normal clothes?” Louis asks, sitting beside Harry on the mattress. The shampoo the hospital had to offer smells strangely nice and he is tempted to ask Taylor where they get it from.

“It…um – It’s – goo? Good.”

Louis nods at him, “I’m happy.”

He’s been trying to contain himself, trying to keep the urge suppressed, but he just can’t do it anymore. He kisses Harry, pushing him back on the hospital bed as the kiss intensifies. It takes Harry by surprise as a quiet yelp leaves his mouth.

Louis hasn’t gotten to kiss Harry like this in weeks. He straddles Harry’s hips, one knee resting on either side of Harry. “I love you. I love you so fucking much. I’ve missed you like you wouldn’t believe.”

Harry laughs against his lips. Slowly, his hands creep up Louis’s backside, his fingers fumble with the fabric of his T-shirt at first, but he manages to slip his hands beneath the T-shirt. His hands rub against Louis’s warm back. “I love y-you.”

“Oh my god. Am I interrupting?” Taylor’s voice echoes in the room and both of the boys laugh against each other. Louis moves off of Harry and he helps him to sit up.

He turns to Taylor and sees the wheelchair she’s pushing closer to the two of them. He glances back towards Harry, “Your carriage has arrived, princess.”

Harry’s face scrunches up at Louis; he looks awfully sour about the entire thing, but a smile peaks through his pouty lips when he sees Louis put out his hand. He takes Louis’s hand and stands up slowly.

Though, as soon as he manages to stand up his legs give out, his knees hit the floor first and Louis manages a quick, “Shit!”

Louis barely catches him. He gets a grip underneath Harry’s arms before the rest of his body can limply hit the floor and he feels his fingertips plunging into Harry’s flesh. He can’t imagine how unpleasant it must be for him. “Harry, are you okay? Love are you okay? Talk to me. Are you okay? Your head alright?” He asks in a panic, hand feverishly touching and patting Harry’s cheek.  He doesn’t want for an incident like this to force Harry another stay in the hospital because he’s put too much stress on his head.

“I – I’m…I’m fine.”

“Please, don’t do that again.” Louis can feel his eyes glazing over with fresh tears, the back of his eyes prickle. He’s thoroughly terrified.

He slowly helps Harry to his feet. Taylor watches her distance.

He wraps an arm around Harry’s waist and slowly leads him to the wheelchair. He sits Harry down in it and Taylor takes on the role of _chauffeur_ , though all she is really doing is just pushing him down the corridor. Many members of the hospital staff bid both Harry and Louis goodbyes, but Louis can’t find himself able to form words.

He realizes, Harry really isn’t well, this surgery might have been a mistake. He’s having more issues than he was before. He shouldn’t have authorized the surgery. He should’ve let him continue to have seizures; they could have found a new medication or something. Now Harry can hardly walk and form coherent sentences, all for what? So he wouldn’t have a seizure and be marketed by publicity and media as incompetent. Seizures never bothered Louis that much; it was something that was habitual. He shouldn’t have agreed to let Harry change it. They were told that the surgery wasn’t going to completely cure his epilepsy, yet they said yes anyways. It was a mistake.  Harry will still have seizures. This surgery only lowers the frequency rate and even then doctors aren’t completely sure it’s going to work very well or even at all. Fuck, this was a stupid idea.

They get out into the parking lot and Louis opens the car door for Taylor. The two of them avail Harry into getting in. There isn’t much of a struggle because Harry uses his upper body strength to pull himself up into the seat using the handle located on the roof.

Louis shuts the door and he turns to Taylor, “Uh – thank you.”

“No problem, good luck. I send you two the best of wishes. May his recovery be easy and speedy.” She smiles, sweetly, before finding her way back into the hospital, pushing the empty wheelchair along with her. The parking lot is utterly and eerily silent. Louis swallows harshly and he can feel the pit of anguish rising in his stomach.

He gets into the car and he looks over at Harry, “This surgery was a mistake. Look at you Harry. I’m so sorry I let you go through with this.” He whispers, voice breaking in the middle of his sentence, “I just wanted _you_ to get better. This is hardly better. Everything’s more complicated. Look what I’ve done. This was a mistake. I’ve ruined you, oh god.” By the time he’s done ranting, he’s crying. It’s not loud sobbing or wailing, it’s silent crying. He silently cries into his hands. This is the hardest thing he’s ever had to go through. He didn’t realize what a toll the surgery was going to have on Harry.

 _Silent crying is the worst kind of crying_ , Harry thinks to himself as he watches Louis closely.

“Louis?” He shifts in the seat and reaches over the center console. He tries to grab one of Louis’s hands, to intertwine their fingers and saccharinely coax him. “It’s…okay.” As soon as his hand comes in contact with Louis’s smaller hand, Louis smacks his away.

A loud flesh on flesh sound fills the car’s already uncomfortable atmosphere.

“Don’t. Don’t Harry. It’s not fucking okay!” He shouts and Harry winces, sinking back into the passenger seat. Louis turns to him and he looks infuriated. The sorrow fades from his expression in seconds, now rage is all Harry can see. Louis’s eyes are a dark stormy blue, like a dangerous thunderstorm is attacking an ocean’s livelihood and his features are drawn tight. His lips are pulled into a frown and his stark cheekbones look more murderous than ever before. His cheeks are stained with tear marks. “It’s not okay! Look at you! You can’t even make a coherent sounding sentence! You can’t walk! All your hair is gone! It is not fucking okay! This is not okay! You’re trying to make everything okay and it’s not. You can’t fix everything this time Harry! You never fix anything! You always make it worse. God, I hate you sometimes. This is your fucking fault. I’m not even sorry. Fuck you.” His fury has rotated and is now pinpointed on Harry directly.

Harry draws in a sharp breath, trying to not let it get to him. He tells himself, _Louis is extremely upset right now and that’s why he’s being so cruel._ “Louis.” Harry whispers. He’s scared, but he doesn’t dare to show it. He remains confident sounding and his eyes don’t fill with the sadness and trepidation he feels internally.

“What Harry?” Louis snaps. His hand tugs violently at the roots of his hair. “Fucking Christ! What the fuck do you want? What do you possibly need from me?”

Harry shrinks at the sound of Louis’s voice. He’s never heard him filled to the brim with this much emotion and he knows that Louis doesn’t mean to sound mean and bitter and frightening. He’s overwhelmed and it’s okay to be overwhelmed.

Louis is frustrated with himself. He shouldn’t be talking to Harry that way. He doesn’t deserve it.

“You’re okay.” Harry says, smoothly, no abrupt pauses or stutters or hesitance.

Louis’s eyebrows draw together in confusion, “I’m okay?” He asks, softly, and Harry nods eagerly. “I’m okay.” He repeats. “You’re okay?” He whispers to Harry. He briefly reaches over and takes hold of Harry’s hand. He squeezes gently.

Harry agrees, clutching his hand tightly, “We’re okay.”

Louis self-destructs once again, tears flood down his cheeks and he shakes his head vigorously. He releases Harry’s hand and uses his own hand to miserably wipe at his eyes. He unfortunately can’t stop the tears coming. He’s tried so hard to stay strong for Harry. He can’t anymore.

Harry moves closer and he reaches for him. Louis immediately goes to him and buries his face in his neck. The sobs break out at this point. He whimpers and wails against Harry’s neck, fisting the front of his shirt, and mumbling incoherently, “What are we going to do? What will we do? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Harry.”

Harry doesn’t say anything at first; instead he offers him the comfort Louis always gives to him. Rubbing his hand over his back and placing kisses to the top of Louis’s hairline, he says, “I...um...I  love you. We’re – we’re okay.”

Louis chooses for once in his life to believe those words. He believes those words for the first time in the parking structure of a hospital, in the arms of his struggling fiancé, crying until he physically can’t anymore.

Perhaps, he holds onto those words because he feels they’re all he has left.

 

 

_Where there is no struggle, there is no strength._

_O.W._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFnIBBVWbMw


	11. Chapter 11

The weather outside is definitely permitting. The sky begins to fade from light blue to hues of orange and pink as the sun sets. No clouds haunt the air and the weather is not too cold or too hot.

Louis had made a suggestion of having a bonfire with the lads. Harry immediately agreed, remembering the clip they had filmed in the woods for This Is Us. It was a memory that he would hold on to for a long time because of how sentimental and emotional the discussions were. The clip that was shown hardly skimmed the surface of what the lads had said to each other.

Another reason for hosting a bonfire is the lack of communication developed between all of five of them. It’s been nearly a month since they’ve spoken face to face. Sure, they had texted and skyped but it wasn’t the same as seeing them in the flesh. Louis has been extremely caught up in taking care of Harry, which he rightfully should be, and he hasn’t had time to leave the house and hang out with his own friends.

Harry’s recovery process has been long and grueling. They still have a few weeks before they can even remotely think about him returning to stage. He’s slowly making progress, though he’s still not all there. Louis was told it could take over a year for Harry to make a complete 360 and act like he had initially before the surgery.

The standpoint they’re at now is unbelievable compared to where Harry had been both emotionally and physically immediately after surgery. He’s able to walk and stand without Louis’s help, but not for very long periods of time as it still takes a lot of energy out of him. He does still needs help getting in and out of the shower, which Louis doesn’t mind.

His speech patterns have improved significantly. He hardly pronounces words wrong, but there is still multiple seconds of hesitation as he speaks, which in turn makes his speech slower than it had been before.

Nevertheless, with all the progress made there’s still a lot to go. Harry needs constant reminders to do things and he’s still unable to provide for himself, meaning washing clothes and cooking is completely out of the question.

The only thing that blatantly frustrates Harry with the recovery process is his appearance. His hair has hardly grown back at all, which makes his scar very visible. His eyes appear a bit sunken and his cheeks are gaunt. He has a sick look to him with his pale face and dull eyes.

 _‘In time it will all fade! Have some faith!’_ Louis says every time Harry gets down on himself.

Louis glances up from Harry and looks inside the house when he hears the doorbell ring, followed by loud howls produced by Bruce. “I’m going to go get the door. Will you be alright out here by yourself?” He asks.

Harry slowly nods, shuts his eyes, and sinks back into the lawn chair. “Yeah.”

“Are you sure? Love, if you need me I’m only a shout away.” He leans down and presses his lips to Harry’s forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

He strides away from Harry and walks into the house through the patio door. The doorbell echoes through the house once more and Louis feels compelled to shout, “One second! I’m coming!”

Bruce is sitting near the front door, fur standing up on his back, as he growls and howls at the door. “Shush Bruce. Go outside with Harry.” He says, sincerely thinking the dog will listen. Bruce proves him wrong and Louis is left with no choice but to grab his collar and lead him away from the door.

Anne would have taken care of the door had she still been living under the same roof as them, but she left weeks ago. Harry was being ridiculously stubborn with her around. He was infuriated that Louis hadn’t told him she’d be around long term. It wasn’t a pleasant surprise for him when he saw her sitting on the couch when he arrived home and then later on saw her bags scattered throughout the house.

He wouldn’t talk to either Louis or Anne over the whole ordeal, he wouldn’t eat what Louis had set out for him, and worst of all he wouldn’t take his damn pills. All of that because he didn’t want his mum dictating his life and taking care of him when Louis was perfectly able to.

They weren’t left with a choice, really, Harry needed to take his medicine and he wasn’t going to with Anne around.  A mutual decision was reached where Anne would stop in rather than live with them full time.

Louis heedfully grasps the doorknob and he opens the door, while still leaning down and holding the dog’s collar, so Bruce won’t attack whoever has arrived first.

Instantaneously, Louis is greeted with a second dog barking and he peers up to see Liam holding Loki in his arms.

“Come in, come in,” Louis practically shouts over the dogs. He shuts the door behind Liam, Loki, and Sophia. “Bruce! Shut up!”

Sophia stands beside Liam, arms crossed over her chest and a disapproving grimace on her soft features.

“I told him not to bring the dog,” she sighs. “Liam put Loki down before he jumps out of your arms and breaks a paw.”

Liam rolls his eyes at her, though there isn’t any venom behind the action, and he puts Loki on the carpet. Louis releases his death grip on Bruce’s collar and promptly the two dogs go head to head, yelping, sniffing, and scratching each other.

Louis stands up straight and hugs both Liam and Sophia. “It’s great to see the both of you.”

“It’s a pleasure as always Tommo.”

Sophia smiles at him, “Thanks for having us over.”

“Of course.” He winces at the dogs. He’s still trying to make himself louder than the two of them combined. “We’ll leave the two of them inside. I don’t want to give Harry a headache.”

Liam nods at him, “Alright. How’s he feeling today?”

“He’s been better. He’s been worse. I don’t think he feels very well, but you know Harry, he’s stubborn, he wouldn’t tell me if he _was_ feeling poorly.”

“We could’ve canceled. I don’t think anyone would have minded,” Sophia says, peering around to look for Harry. “If he doesn’t feel well, this is going to be miserable for him. Where is he anyways?”

“He’s outside,” Louis sighs at her, “He’s miserable every day as it is. I’m sure seeing his closest friends will lift his spirits up,” he runs his hand through his hair. “I think he’s going through a bit of a depression. I haven’t decided if taking him to see a therapist is appropriate yet.”

"Give him time," Liam suggests, though it sounds more like a demand than a friendly tip. "It may take him more time to recuperate emotionally than physically Lou. I can't imagine how hard this has to be for you, but time heals all wounds."

Louis stares at him for a few moments, when did Liam get sentimental, before clearing his throat and speaking again, "Are you helping me barbecue? Last time I tried to, I nearly burned my fucking face off."

"You're not supposed to use gasoline on a charcoal grill, you tit."

Louis scoffs, "How do you suppose I should have known that?"

"It's common sense, Lou," Sophia giggles, looking him up and down. "Even I know that gasoline is extremely flammable."

"Listen here, Smith, I don't need your attitude." Louis grumbles. Both Sophia and Liam laugh in reply to Louis's sudden bitterness. "Alright, jokes over then, come on and follow me out back."

Louis leads Sophia and Liam to the back sliding door. "So, are the other two twats coming or are they just planning on being extremely late as usual?"

"Niall sent me a text earlier. He's on his way. I don't know about Zayn, but then again who really knows about Zayn?" Liam says which actually is one hundred percent truthful.

Zayn is always late for everything and he's flaky. He backs out of their plans often. Therefore they never expect Zayn to show up anywhere such as clubs, parties, or even interviews. They let him do as he wants, without ever really getting disappointed over the fact that he doesn't spend normal amounts of time with them. They do see each other every day for around eight months out of the year. It's understandable that any more than that may make Zayn drive himself insane.

"That's fair. I thought I heard him mention something about bringing Perrie along, he seemed stoked about today, but then again Zayn's hard to read, isn’t he? We'll see." Louis slides the door open, blocks the dogs from getting out as he allows Liam and Sophia to get outside before him. His civilization is in check today.

He steps outside and shuts the door behind him.

Harry notices the three of them and gradually sits up, using the arms of the chair to help him. Louis has him dressed less appropriately for the weather than he’d like to admit. His black t-shirt, a pair of sweatpants, and a beanie pulled snuggly over his ears are all part of his attire tonight. It’s a bit too much considering the recent heat wave that passed through, but Harry has been getting chills on occasion and he feels a constant need to wear a hat anyways. Even through Louis’s objections that the scar appears hardly grotesque and he looks gorgeous with buzzed hair does he choose to wear the damned hat.

Liam walks over to him first while Sophia stands near Louis, arms crossed back of her chest. She peers up at him, though he is short, Louis can thrillingly say he’s taller than one of his best mate’s girlfriends. She draws in a deep breath, “He looks good.”

“Does he?” Louis interrogates, side-eyeing her subtly. “You don’t have to say that Sophia. I know he –“

“No, Louis. Honestly, he looks really great for someone who’s only been up and out of brain surgery for less than a month.”

Louis quietly says, “Friday makes it exactly one month.”

Liam smiles at Harry, hardly gives a moment’s hesitation, before he leans down and cautiously wraps his arms around Harry in a bear hug. Liam never takes credit for being the softy in the band, but he ties first place with Harry. He’s unbelievably caring and he would do anything for anyone of his boys. “Hey Harry.” He whispers. Harry’s automatic reaction is to wrap his arms around Liam and bury his face into Liam’s shoulder. As the two of them become older they seem to form a stronger bond with one another. When they first started off on X-factor they rarely talked and there always felt like a bit of tension built a wall between them. Part of the reason was Liam was, at the time, the leader of the band and he liked strict routines. Often, it was, for lack of a better expression, his way or the highway and his entire attitude made Harry paranoid of his Epilepsy. He didn’t want to upset Liam or throw him off because a lot of people never reacted properly to his confession.

Louis was one of the first to treat Harry with decency and respect when he was told.

Nevertheless, the truth had to come out eventually, after perpetually being nagged by Louis and feeling an overwhelming urge to let the three other lads in, he decided to sit them down and tell them. Liam reacted the best out of the three. Zayn and Niall hadn’t been angry or disgusted, but it was obvious they had been shocked silent and truly didn’t know how to respond.

Liam, from that point on, took on this self-formed big brother role. He was protective of Harry. One reason being Harry is the youngest and the second being his struggle with epilepsy. Liam and Louis, working together, are a force to be reckoned with. They’ve never let anyone openly degrade Harry. There have been a few celebrities who have opened their mouths since the announcement of Harry’s disorder in February, such as Noel Gallagher. There was a huge shit storm that followed his little speech.

He had said on live radio, “Who would want to be Harry Styles? Hasn’t got the sexual appeal going for him any longer does he? I feel bad for that kid. No matter how hard he tries he’ll never gain the appeal of his fucking ignorant fans back. All they can see now is him flopping around on the ground like a fish and that doesn’t sell records, unfortunately, for those fucking idiots. You know, I read the statement released and I do think its possible Harry wrote it while having the fucking seizure. I’ve seen bloody toddlers write better.”

That little statement hadn’t been let go of loosely by any of the band members, but specifically Louis and Liam. They had at first taken to twitter, which really had not done much, but then they requested a radio slot on BBC Radio 1 and they ripped into both Noel Gallagher and Oasis.

Harry had said throughout the whole ordeal that it was unnecessary for them to do that and the comment didn’t bother him. It was like a quick bee sting, it pained him for the first few seconds and he moved on with life.

Louis thinks that it was more of a bee sting on someone allergic to bees. Quick to happen, but the fear and adrenaline of the moment forever locked itself in the back of their mind.

“I missed you,” Liam whispers against Harry’s ear. “How are you feeling? Are you feeling alright? Is there anything I can get for you?”

“No,” Harry shakes his head. “It’s…good to…um, see you.”

“Yeah, you too mate,” Liam pulls away, but still stands near. “You’re feeling alright? You look tired.”

“I’m always…tired.” Harry replies with a weak smile.

Harry peers up when he hears Sophia’s voice, “You look fantastic.” He arches an eyebrow at her, to see if she’s joking, but her facial expression remains neutral. She moves closer, nudging Liam out of the way, and she bends down to hug him. “It’s great to see you.” She kisses his cheek before stepping away from him.

“Let’s see the scar.” Liam suggests.

Harry eyes widen at his straight-forwardness. He starts to shake his head and before Louis tells him not to, he realizes what he’s doing and comes to a halt. Any abrupt movements of his head cause him to wither in pain. “No.”

“Come on Harry. I bet it looks sick, like you were in some kind of fight or something.”

Louis warns, “ _Liam_.”

“ I don’t –“ Harry starts, but he looks between both Liam and Sophia one more time. They’re his friends. They’re not going to judge him. “Fine.” His arm trembles as he lifts it over his head to pull the beanie off, his fingers miss and grab air, rather than fabric the first few tries. He finally clutches the cotton in between the pads of his thumb and pointer finger and slowly slides it off.

Louis watches silently and nervously. Internally hoping Liam and Sophia don’t say the wrong things to him and make him cry. That’s not something that he wants to deal with tonight.

It’s not that Harry’s sensitive and he cries over everything. The surgery significantly changed him emotionally and he consistently gets upset if Louis makes certain comments, that aren’t intended to be mean or rude, but Harry takes them that way.

Harry now also has superhuman abilities, not genuinely, but when patients undergo brain surgery their senses, such as sight and hearing, change. Harry’s hearing is superb, which currently makes him more prone to headaches due to sensitivity of sound, but after this recovery process is over it’s going to help him in the long run.

Liam exclaims in awe, “Mate! That’s a sick scar. Soph, isn’t that a cool scar?”

Sophia discreetly looks at Louis as if to see if the path Liam’s paving is correct. He nods at her and motions for her to continue on with the astonishment and compliments. She smiles at Harry, “That’s amazing. It kind of looks like a work of art, doesn’t it Liam? Like a – broken masterpiece,” she encourages.

“I bet that Van Gogh guy is _real_ jealous. Looking down and seeing Harry’s scar is better than all of his work combined.”

Harry, for the first time in weeks, lets a legitimate laugh fall between his lips as he watches the two of them scramble for nice things to say. “Thank…you.”

Suddenly, he jumps and shuts his eyes tight with the groan that ensues. Sharp movements cause pains to shoot through his head. It isn’t his brain itself that’s sore. The brain doesn’t have nerve endings, therefore pain isn’t felt there. But, the skull, tissue surrounding the skull, and the scalp all feel pain because there are nerve endings. ” _Fuck_!” He screams, thus forcing Liam, Louis, Sophia and probably everyone in the surrounding area to wince because of how vulnerable and raw the single word sounds.

Louis slowly removes his hands from Harry’s shoulders. He knows now that he shouldn’t have come up behind Harry like that, obviously he scared him. “Love, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.  Are you okay?” He apologizes, leaning over the back of the chair and pressing his lips to Harry’s jaw.

Harry has his hand covering his face and Louis can hear his heavy breathing. He’s trying to calm himself down. He doesn’t reply to Louis’s question.

“Are you going to be alright?” Louis reposes his hand on Harry’s shoulder and slowly rubs up and down his arm.  “It’s okay. I’m sorry sweetheart.”

Louis glances up at Liam with a look of pure guilt and he swallows harshly. He presses his lips below Harry’s ear and then begins to talk in a soft whisper, “Harry. Talk to me. Are you okay?”

Harry inhales shakily, before stuttering out a, “Ye-yeah. Can you – um, I – fuck…”

If he gets overwhelmed or frustrated he isn’t able to think straight thus stumbling over all of his words as he tries to get a proper sentence out. “Shh. Slow down. Can I what? You have to tell me what you need, as much as I would love to be able to read your mind, I, unfortunately, cannot. Calm down and take a deep breath for me. What do you need?”

“I – I don’t…”

“Yes you do. Listen to me. Deep breath. Inhale,” He takes a deep breathing, guiding Harry to do the same. “Exhale.” He leads Harry to let the breath out. “Now tell me what do you need?”

“Aspirin.” Harry mumbles, eyes remaining shut. He’s trying to stay still, so he doesn’t cause himself another spiral of pain.

“You want aspirin? Okay. Okay love, I’ll get you some. Sophia –“

“I’m on it. Where do you keep it?”

“It’s in the bathroom in the hallway downstairs. It should be in the medicine cabinet above the toilet. It’s Tylenol. Can you grab a water bottle on your way back?”

“Of course. I’ll be back in a flash.” She says and disappears inside the house within seconds.

Liam gets down on his knees in front of Harry, repositioning his hands to rest on Harry’s thighs, “Is he going to be alright?”

“This happens rather often.”

“Is it a headache?” Liam cautiously asks.

“No, no. It would be a lot less painful for him if it was. It’s nerve pain from having the surgery. His scalp is extremely sensitive. The lightest touch or the slowest movement, on the wrong day, puts him through pain like this.”

Instantaneously, there’s an abrupt shout, “Now that I’m here I’m sure I’ve made all your day better! And look who I found!” Louis looks to see where it’s coming from and he sees Niall, followed by a lethargic Zayn walking through the house. Sophia left the door open a crack and the sound is now available for all to hear.

“Bloody hell. Could this get any worse? Liam go tell them to quiet down.”

Liam immediately stands up and meets the two of them at the door, just as Niall’s sliding it open, “Niall, be quiet, would you?”

“Why?” Niall glances towards Harry and Louis. “Is everything alright?”

“Not right now. Harry’s having some kind of trouble with his head. Sophia went to go find medicine for him. He’ll be okay, give him a few minutes, for right now. Quiet down.”

“Excuse me, boys. Pardon me. Move, move, move,” Sophia pushes past all three of them and nearly runs over to Louis to hand him tablets of Tylenol and a water bottle. She steps away, giving Louis space, and puts her hands on her hips as she watches Louis step to the front of Harry.

“Thank you Sophia.”

“Don’t mention it. Will he be okay?”

“Once the medication settles, he’ll be as good as new.” He forces Harry’s hand away from his face. “Love? I have aspirin for you.” Harry holds his trembling hand out and he does start to put it in Harry’s palm, but his fingers only brush against Harry’s hand before he realizes that handing it off to Harry is not the best idea. “Open your mouth for me, okay?” Harry complies without any hesitation and Louis feeds him two tablets before handing him an open water bottle to help guide the pills down. Harry takes a big swig of water before blindly handing it back to Louis. “Did they go down alright?”

“Yes.”

“Ace,” He moves his hand to rest on Harry’s cheek. “You’ll feel better in a moment, I promise.”

Glancing up at Niall and Zayn, he holds up one finger as if gesturing just a moment. He peers back at Harry and subsequently presses his lips to his forehead. Louis pulls away and cups Harry’s chin, forcing him to pay attention, “Can you do this tonight love? Be honest with me. I don’t want you pushing yourself for me.”

“I’m – I’m okay.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

Louis nods and releases Harry’s chin, “Niall and Zayn are here now.”

“Wicked.” Harry mutters.

“You sound overwhelmingly enthusiastic right now.” He takes the orange beanie that’s been thrown unkemptly to the ground and puts it in Harry’s lap. He finds sometimes when Harry has an object in his hands to play with and occupy himself with it takes stress out of social situations for him. Even before the surgery, Harry was always nervous and frightened around people. His nerves always get the best of him, but whenever someone gave him a mic to mess with or a poster he would always calm down. He’s childlike in that way.

“You guys can come over here now. All is well.” Louis motions for their four friends to come over to the bonfire pit.

Niall goes in for a hug with Harry first. He always gives the best hugs because he has warmth that follows him around like a shadow and he smells welcoming. Harry hugs him back, “I…sorry.”

“Sorry for what exactly? I’ve been here for like five minutes what could you have possibly done wrong in that amount of time Harry?”

“Causing a…scene.”

“Don’t bother apologizing. You can’t help it now can you?” Niall playfully gives him a huge wet kiss on the cheek and Harry laughs, using his hand to wipe away the slobber after Niall pulls away.

Zayn steps in next. The thing with Zayn is he’s hardly an emotional person and he’s more awkward than anything. Most people get the idea that he doesn’t like them when in reality he’s painfully shy and awkward, but when something or someone means a lot to him, he shows a smile or teary eyes or whatever else indicates emotion to someone.

When he gets close enough to Harry, he smiles and hugs him tightly. Zayn doesn’t exactly give off the most inviting smell, smelling of cigarette smoke and occasionally marijuana, but Harry’s use to the smell because his very own fiancé always reeks of it. With Zayn and Louis it was like an exchange, Zayn introduced Louis to cigarettes and Louis introduced Zayn to marijuana. “I’m glad to see you. You look good.”

“Thank you.” Harry whispers. Zayn pulls away and reaches to ruffle his hair, but pauses midway. He drops his hand down to his side and sighs quietly.

Harry has the kind of hair Liam was sporting during the Little Things music video era.

“Zayn, bro, what happened? I thought you were bringing Perrie.” Louis nudges him, coercing him to stumble; only a little bit.

“Pez wanted to come, but she’s busy with the girls and their single.”

Sophia huffs, “I see, leaving me all alone to fend for myself.”

 “Is that so?” Louis teases.

“It’s been a shit day for Zayn. His car wouldn’t start; he had to call a _little Irish fellow_ to pick him up.” Niall smiles.

“Yeah and I’m never driving with that _little Irish fellow_ again. You have a lead foot. You’re an awful driver.”

“I’m an amazing driver! What are you talking about? You’re a shit driver.”

“Alright, lads, let’s not get into this now. We all know I’m the best driver,” Louis grins. “Anyways…Liam’s going to come help me grill.”

Louis winks at Harry once he catches his eyes. “I’ll be right over there love. Shout if you need me. The boys and Sophia will entertain you I’m sure.” He points to the charcoal grill near their in ground pool. They hardly ever use the pool. It’s end of June, and yet they haven’t opened it for the summer. There’s not a point to setting everything up when Louis doesn’t care for swimming and Harry has to avoid chlorine to prevent getting an infection.

Harry coos, “Okay. Love you.”

“I love you too.”  Louis squeezes his shoulder as he walks past with Liam.

Sophia sits on Harry’s left, Niall to his right, and Zayn to Niall’s right. They’re in the shape of a half circle.

It’s silent for multiple moments before Sophia finds something to say. She’s usually closest with Harry, after Liam, but for some odd reason she isn’t sure what to say. “So, uh, Liam hasn’t told me. What’s happening with your tour? He gets pissy with me every time I ask about it.”

“He’s angry because it’s ridiculous. Basically – well, we obviously had to postpone tour,” Niall replies, “We finished our legs in Australia, Asia, and Africa, but we took hiatus right before the start of European leg. That leaves the first European leg, the North American leg, and then the second part of the European leg, which is all in the UK, unfinished. We can’t tour stadiums in the winter, so we have to get all of the tour dates done before the end of November.”

Harry sinks back in his chair, feeling slightly guilty for the predicaments he’s put the band in, and he watches Niall silently as he explains to Sophia.

“Why don’t you just wait until next year then? I don’t understand.”

“It all has to do with sales,” Zayn speaks up. Usually, he never talks about the principles and structural ideals on which the band is formed on. It’s interesting to all involved that he does now. “If we postpone tour an entire year, people get angry and frustrated, and that may mean we lose sales on albums and future ticket and merchandise sales. Our label and management team will lose money and we can’t have that, they could drop us if we’re not doing as well as they anticipate.”

“I see,” Sophia nods slowly. “Then what’s the game plan?”

“Well, now that we’re dealing with Louis and Harry –“

“Pardon me.” Harry blurts out. “What?”

“What?” Niall reiterates.

“What…about us?”

“Well now that you guys are out of the closet…” Zayn adds on, slowly, as he watches Sophia. Her green eyes are blown wide as she gestures for him to quit talking.

Harry laughs in disbelief, “Come again. We’re – what?”

“You mean you didn’t – oh no.” Niall nervously rubs his face. “Louis he – um.”

Sophia mumbles, “Niall just stop while you’re ahead.”

“What?!” Harry shouts, absolutely furious, his voice carries across the yard which in turn causes Louis to whip his head around from where he’s standing with Liam.

Louis ponders for a moment, “What do you think he’s shouting about? I should go – ”

“Tommo stop. Somebody probably made an offensive joke. You know how cruel Niall’s jokes get sometimes. It’s nothing. Take a breather.”

“Harry. Calm down. It’s not that big of a deal.” Zayn assures.

“He – fucking…oh god,” Harry loses his breath and shuts his eyes tightly in rage. “Why – he didn’t –no, no. Tell me.” His face is quite literally turning beet red with anger. Sophia can practically feel the heat radiating off of his body.

Zayn looks at Niall for guidance, but Niall shakes his head. He can’t understand Harry either, which has been proven before helps no one.

“Tell…tell how me,” Harry shakes his head. That isn’t structural order. “Tell. Me. How.” He breathes, voice lowering an octave, and fists clenching on his lap. He’s infuriated. Harry hardly ever gets angry; it’s shocking to see him this mad. Sophia’s afraid he’s going to hurt himself, she’s on the edge of her seat.

Niall whispers, “He tweeted during your surgery.”

Harry isn’t angry that they’re out of the closet. He doesn’t care about that. In fact, he’s happy that he’s free to be with Louis now, but he’s angry about being lied to for nearly a month. Louis wouldn’t let him check twitter on his laptop or his phone. Louis wouldn’t let him watch any news channels. When he asked why, Louis said too much time with electronics might give him a headache.

“Okay, Harry, please calm down. It’s going to be fine.” Sophia urges, starting to stand up.

“I’m – fine. Sit…sit down,” Harry points a shaking finger at her. She settles back down into the plastic chair and looks down nervously as she wrings her hands together.

She glances up towards Louis and Liam to find Liam staring at her. She points at Harry and shakes her head.

“What –“He pulls in a wheezing breath.

“ _Harry_. Harry you _need_ to calm down.” Zayn presses, leaning forward. “You’re going to hurt yourself. This isn’t healthy. You can hardly breath, calm down.”

He ignores Zayn completely, “What…what happens?”

Sophia raises her hands in surrender, “I don’t have a clue. Have one of those two _idiots_ tell you.”

Harry looks towards Niall and Zayn, expectantly.

“They’re having the two of you do an interview as soon as you’re better,” Niall sighs. “Just the two of you though, Liam, Zayn, and I aren’t included. They also plan on having you openly discuss your epilepsy because you haven’t done that yet. Louis pushed for that. He wants you to talk about your struggles without having other people telling you what to say,” Niall swallows harshly as he looks at Harry who looks overwhelmed. This can’t possibly be a good thing.

“Unbelievable.” Harry whispers, looking down at the beanie in his lap. He picks it up and throws it off to the side in pure frustration. This is ridiculous. He cannot believe Louis.

A silence fills the atmosphere between Harry, the boys, and Sophia.

That is, until an odd repetitive noise has Sophia, Niall, and Zayn glancing up from the dark hole in the center of the bonfire pit. In a matter of hours, a fire will be lit, stories will be told, and marshmallows will be roasted, hopefully this current conversation will be forgotten about. They direct their glances to Harry.

They all have different reactions as they watch him. Sophia head cocks to the side as she watches Harry whereas Zayn and Niall exchange a wary gaze.

He's smacking his lips together, producing a noise that sounds as though he's eating with an open mouth. He isn't eating anything, yet his mouth moves as though he's got a mouthful. His eyes are glassy as he glares forward at the large picket fence, the brown picket fence that squares all of them off from peeping neighbors.

His stare is intense, eyebrows furrowed, and eyes narrowed as though he's angry. But his mouth holds no real curve, pulled into a tight line, and his cheeks still look gaunt as he glowers at a spot on the fence.

"What are you looking at?" Zayn asks.

He doesn't receive a response.

Sophia turns her body slightly to look in the direction he's looking in, but she's met with the sight of nothing extraordinary. It only appears as a painted picket fence to her. He isn't looking at anything in particular. She shifts back around to look at him. "Harry?" She questions, voice raised a few octaves higher than usual. "Harry. Are you alright?" She rests her hand to sit on his shoulder. "Harry."

Niall leans forward and waves his hand in front of Harry's face, but he doesn't flinch or change his direction of sight. His eyes hold frustration and irritation. If the predicaments were different, Niall might be scared of that utterly evil look. "If this is some joke you're playing, to get back at us for telling you the truth, you might as well knock it off. It isn't funny. I love a good joke as much as the next guy, but this isn't a good one.

She gets up from her chair and shuffles towards him. Getting on her knees in front of him, she watches cautiously, sincerely confused about what's happening. She doesn't care that her white shorts are getting dirty. Something's wrong, she can feel it.

Harry isn't responding to her at all. He hasn't looked at once. She ponders for a moment and wonders if he's just talented at ignoring other people, but face it, Harry isn't a cruel person and even if he was upset he would never purposely ignore anyone.

She notices his hands aimlessly fumbling with the bottom of his t-shirt, almost as if he's blind and he can't see what he's doing. He can't properly grasp the material in his hands. "Harry." She moves her hand to rest on his thigh and she pats, still endeavoring to get him to notice her. "Harry? What's wrong? Look at me. Harry, babe, you've got to tell us what's wrong."

"Why is he doing that?"

"Niall, I swear, if I knew, I would make him stop."

She finally shouts, without looking away from Harry, "Louis!"

"What? I'm in the middle of something Give me a second!" He calls across the backyard.

"Louis!"

He sounds agitated with the next yell, "Sophia! Give me a bloody minute, would you?"

Zayn huffs, "Someone's in a shitty mood, alright then," He gets up from his seat and stands behind Sophia. "Maybe try...pinching him or something.

"I'm not going to pinch him Zayn."

Niall offers, “I’ll pinch him.”

“No. No one is pinching Harry. Knock it off.”

She glances up and over at the two by the grill. Liam's now pointing to them and Louis's following his gaze. The look that crosses Louis's face makes Sophia's heart clench.

She focuses back on Harry and removes her hand from his thigh. She attempts to pull Harry's hands away from his shirt, but he's too far gone to allow her to help him. His hands continue to move despite Sophia's various attempts to hold them down. He's much stronger than she is.

He's stopped smacking his lips together, but she picks up on the quiet vocalization in the back of his throat. It sounds like a mix of a high-pitched squeal and a wheeze. It's consistent and his entire body lurches forward with every breath.

It sounds like he can't breathe and that's scarier than everything combined. If he can't breathe and he can't communicate it, how is Sophia supposed to know?

"What did you - What's going on? Harry?"

Sophia peers up at Louis when she acknowledges his voice. He holds a spatula and a towel in his hands, both instantaneously drop to the ground and he dashes the short distance over to them.

"I don't - I don't know. At first, he was smacking his lips together and now I can't get him to respond to me. He doesn't sound like he can breathe very well. I'm worried."

Louis demands for Sophia to "Move over a bit."

Sophia heedfully stands up, back colliding with Zayn's front at first, and then she quickly decides to step to the side to allow Louis access to Harry. "Harry?" Louis places his hand on Harry's cheek. "Harry? Can you hear me? Harry."

"What's wrong with him?"

"He's having a seizure."

"Is he going to start shaking? Should we get him on the ground?" Niall asks.

"It's not that kind of seizure."

"What do you mean?"

"Not now. I'll explain later." Louis cuts him off with a wave of a hand. "Harry. I'm right here. Love, take a deep breath. It'll be alright. Come back to me. I'm right here. I won't leave, I promise, okay? You're forgetting to breath. I need you to breath for me."

Another grueling minute passes before Harry blinks and turns his head to the sound of Louis's saccharine sounding voice. "Harry. Thank god." He whispers. "I want you to relax and sit back. If you feel tired, it's okay to go to sleep."

Harry's reaching out in front of him for something, which means the seizure is still in the works, but slowly declining. Louis clutches onto Harry's hand until he completely comes around and wants to be let go of. He starts fighting Louis's hold, therefore Louis releases him.

"I'm - I smelled -"

"You had a seizure babe. Whatever you smelled was an aura, alright? It wasn't real. I want you to sit back and relax, maybe catch some sleep." Louis places his hand in the center of Harry's chest and pushes him back to lie down. Harry still tries to fight him, but eventually gives up and lays back.

"Okay Lou." Harry finally sighs.

Louis turns to Sophia, Niall, and Zayn. He gestures for them to follow him and they do until they're standing in the middle of the backyard.

Liam walks over, looking like the human question mark with the puzzled look on his face. "What happened?"

"Harry had a seizure."

"Shit! Is he okay?" Liam asks, genuinely concerned. He walks to a terror-stricken Sophia and wraps his arms around her slender frame.

Sophia mumbles into Liam's neck. "That was awful." She's never seen him have a seizure of any sort; it's all brand new to her.

"He's fine. He had something called a Complex Partial seizure. He's had a few before, but this one was entirely unprovoked."

"Actually..." Zayn scratches the back of his neck.

"Actually what?"

"Well, he was rather angry and stressed before it happened. Does that have anything to do with it?"

Louis draws in a deep breath while pinching the bridge of his nose, " _Well fuck_. Why was he angry?"

Nobody says anything.

"I don't just talk to hear myself. Why was he angry?"

Again, nobody says anything.

"Can someone give me a straight fucking answer? I need to know why he had a seizure."

" _Fine!_ I guess I'll say it." Sophia sighs. "Niall and Zayn told him that you two are out of the closet and preparing for an interview."

"You two did what?" Louis groans. This day could not possibly get any worse, honestly. "There was a reason I hadn't told him yet. He isn't strong enough to handle news like that. We're lucky he didn't have a fucking stroke. God." He rubs his hands over his face. "Great. Now, I'll have to deal with his wrath later. Have you ever tried taking care of a sick and angry Harry? It's impossible."

"Sorry Louis."

"Yeah. Sorry."

Louis turns to Sophia, waiting for her apology. "I had no part in it. I'm not sorry."

Louis manages to calm himself down. "I guess it’s better he knows now rather than later. He'd be even angrier with me had he found out weeks from now. I just wish the two of you idiots hadn't done it today."

"We didn't have a clue that he didn't know. I really am sorry." Niall apologizes once more. Zayn nods in agreement.

Louis nods, "Do you guys want to stick around or no?"

"Of course. Will Harry be out for the rest of the night?"

"He might be. It depends how much this seizure took out of him. We shouldn't have done this today, but it's too late for that now isn't it? I am glad you guys are here though. It’s good to see you. It takes some stress off of me. Come on. Take a seat. The barbecue will be done soon."

July 25th here we come…

The interview process makes Louis more nervous than he'll truthfully admit. He's never been put in such a vulnerable position. They’re going to be asked all about their personal life. About how their relationship is, how their relationship is affected by external forces like Harry's epilepsy, and Louis knows that he's not exactly ready for it. The fact that they have less than a month until the 25th is extremely daunting.

Now that Harry knows a bit about what will take place hopefully they can start preparing for it now. They can decide how open their answers will be. Harry's epilepsy is his own business, well - sort of, and Louis will try not to intrude with those questions, but how is he supposed to help himself? Harry will let people degrade him, sometimes without knowing, and that's what also makes Louis nervous.

He hasn't even checked twitter since he outed their relationship and he's terrified of what people are saying. He has a month before he has to truly worry about opening up to the general public.

Of course, he'll focus on Harry until it’s time to focus on their relationship being out in the open.

The thing with outing themselves before the initial time they were supposed to do it is they've screwed themselves with Azoff for the time being. If the response to Louis and Harry's relationship is good enough than Modest! have decided to keep them, if not then they'll throw One Direction to the wolves and then _hopefully_ Azoff will pick them up. If not, there’s no telling what will happen. That’s the scariest part.

 

 

 

 

_When you love someone so deeply they become your life, it's easy to succumb overwhelming fears inside. Blindly I imagined I could keep you under a glass. Now I understand to hold you I must open my hand and watch you rise_

_M.C_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFnIBBVWbMw


	12. Chapter 12

"Are you alright?" Louis asks, ankles crossed, one over the other, and a frown strewn across his sharp features. "You look a bit out of it, love," His hand finds a comfortable spot residing on top of Harry's thigh. "You don't feel like you're going to have a seizure, do you? Are you ill?" Harry isn’t meant to have tonic clonic seizures during the first months after the initial operation, partial seizures and absence seizures are common, especially after having neurosurgeons dig around his brain. Though, he’s not meant to have them for a while, even more so since his frequency rate has been allegedly lowered, the thoughts still peak in Louis’s mind.

"No. Nerves." Harry mutters, involuntarily tugging the beanie down, further over his ears. Unfortunately, insecurity still ignites his bones. His hair still hasn't grown back as quickly as he would like it to; therefore his grotesque incision scar is still blatantly obvious. It isn't bloody and stitched up like an experiment gone wrong, but it still isn't something that Harry would feel comfortable showing off.

"I don't blame you," He pats Harry's thigh. "I'm nervous too. This is our first interview in months. I can hardly believe it, but it's going to be alright."

This is their official coming out interview. It's alright to be nervous and scared of what it will entail, right?

 Harry swallows, "Do you - um -" He abruptly stops.

 "Keep going sweetheart. Go on."

There's a long pause that follows. He's trying to think of the proper words, but they aren't coming to him easy. His nerves aren't helping with his speech. "Interviewer approve?"

Louis eyes him quietly, trying to determine what Harry is after, "Do I think the interviewer will approve? You mean James? Are you sure your memory is still intact? He knew beforehand, of course he’s going to approve, babe," He guesses. Harry makes a noise of agreement.  Louis doesn’t say anything for quite some time, that is until his curiosity gets the best of him, "Approve of what exactly? Us? You and I? Our love? Who cares babe, frankly, it doesn't matter what happens today. It won't dictate our future together. We define our own future. It's always going to be you and I, no one will ever change that, I need you to understand, okay?"

 "Yeah." Harry whispers.

Louis removes his hand from Harry's thigh and positions his fingertips on Harry's jaw. "Also, if any comment or question makes you uncomfortable today, let me know, and I'll put a stop to it. We're not live, they can cut out whatever we choose, don't stress about any of this. I love you Harry. More than anything in this whole world. I would do anything for you. Today is going to be just fine. Believe me." He kisses Harry gently, careful to not force Harry's head to jerk. He presses his hand on the back of Harry's neck to steady his head 

The nerve pain has been more controllable, but sometimes it comes out of nowhere. It's rough when Harry's curled into a ball, shaking and crying, and the strongest pain killer doesn't even help dull the pain, Louis will try at all costs to avoid causing Harry pain

That's one of the worst thing Louis experiences by being with Harry, helplessness. There are times when he's unable to help or assist Harry and it kills him. It's like when Harry's seizing, there isn't anything he can do, besides wait the torment out and calm him down when he's a disoriented blubbering mess.

Louis is a person who prefers to take control over situations rather than sit back and allow them to happen, that's part of the reason it's difficult for him. The other reason is he loves Harry, too much at times, and he wants to protect him from all the evil in the world, but he simply can't when Harry's whimpering and withering on the floor.

"I love you." Harry smiles against Louis's lips, passion laced in his slightly boisterous tone. The constant 'I love you's' they exchange thrill Harry. He gets extremely excited to tell Louis he loves him.

Instantaneously, a female clears her throat and Harry jumps, immediately pulling away from Louis, even though there's nothing to hide from anymore.

 Louis pulls away from Harry and he pivots his body to face the woman, "What?"

"I'm from the CBS network. My name is Caitlyn. It's nice to meet you," she adjusts her headset before shaking both the boys' hands. "We're going to have the two of you head out onto the floor after Mr. Corden finishes with his introduction monologue. Please remember we are recording in front of a live studio audience."

There had been many talk shows that had all pleaded to cover Louis and Harry's story. Most of which just wanted the viewing audience, they were bound to draw in millions of fans. They were given a few options and while James was more of a comedian, he was a friend and both of the boys felt safe with him conducting the interview. Ben Winston also is an executive producer of the show which helped their management zero in on him since he was a familiar face and he would help contain thing if they were to become too hectic.

James had agreed to tone down on the jabs and banter, this interview was meant to be serious and he intended for it to come across that way. The only issue with agreeing to allow James to conduct the interview was the flight over to Los Angeles. The flight had to be approved by Harry's doctor and special accommodations had to be made if he were to fall ill on the ride or in the United States. It was a bit of a hassle, but now that it was all figured out and they were here, it no longer mattered.

It's currently only four in the afternoon. The show is filmed early in the day, in front of live studio audiences, and then aired at around 12:35 in the morning. This allows editing to take place, should it be needed, and anyways, it's a bit difficult to interview celebrities who are half asleep.

The Late Show obviously isn't the most appropriate first interview for such stringent topics, but it's an idea they're both comfortable with, so of course it will ensue.

"Right then. Thanks." Louis replies.

"Well, I do need the two of you to follow me. So if you would, this way please." She gestures for the two of them to stand up and follow her. She has her back to them as she begins to walk to the exit of the green room. Louis stands up before Harry and offers him a hand to avail balancing himself. Harry can walk fine, but he stumbles ever so often and it's fair to say he gives Louis heart palpitations every time he does trip over his feet.

Harry reaches up, takes his hand, and gradually stands up from the couch. "How are we? Are we alright?" Louis asks, concerned.

"We're alright." Harry whispers in reply.

The two of them, hand in hand, make their way to the door and follow the technical intern to the backstage area. They're right behind an entryway that will lead them out on stage with James. It feels surreal that the boys aren't apart of this interview in anyway, it's likely they won't even be mentioned. They're all home in England, waiting for informational text messages from Louis to come through.

The intern reminds them, "You have the entire time slot tonight. Make the most of it."

Harry swallows and leans down to bury his face into the crook of Louis's neck. He shakily breathes against him. It's his nerves, he's scared and Louis doesn't blame him, not even a little bit. He's nervous too, but he's always been better at concealing his emotions.

Moments later, there's two unidentified women walking over to them and forcing microphone clips onto their shirts and microphone packs into the pockets of their pants. "Be careful. Don't touch these microphones. They're extremely sensitive."

Harry smiles weakly, "Of course. Thank you."

The gratuitous and polite Harry Louis knew before the procedure was peeking through more and more every day. It warms his heart to know Harry is coming back to him.

"Now that I've thoroughly bored you, let's have our guests come on out. They’re the real reason you're all here, tonight we have two members of the biggest boy band in the world, my friends, Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles of One Direction. Come on out boys." James voice echoes backstage.

Harry and Louis exchange a nervous gaze as the intern pushes them along, "Out you go. That's your cue."

The curtains are thrust open and Louis steps out onto the stairs before Harry, hand still grasping his tightly as he leads him down the steps. Harry cowers in on himself as the screaming intensifies. He tries to move closer to Louis but he can't whilst they're walking down steps and across the stage.

James stands up from his desk, moves over to them once they’re on stage, and greets both of them with a tight embrace, "Welcome boys. It's great to see the two of you again." Gesturing to the sofa behind them, he offers them a warm laugh and takes a seat.  "Do feel free to have a seat."

Louis takes a seat closest to James and Harry sits beside him. Granted, Harry practically is sitting on top of his lap, considering how close he is.

"How about one more round of applause for Louis and Harry," James claps his hands and the audience follows. Louis can't help but smile; they're actually being accepted by this group of people. He peers down at his lap, trying to swallow down his choked up emotions. He partially expected boos to come out of the audience. "Before we start, how are you feeling Harry? You've undergone brain surgery not even two months ago, which is unbelievable, how are you holding up?"

Harry clears his throat, "I'm alright. Tired...and stuff."

"Brilliant," James leans forward and clutches the mic clipped to his shirt in the palm of his hand. "You can let me know if you can't keep up with this today, alright? Just say the word and you can take the longest break you need. I know this is a lot for you to handle today."

Louis eyes James quietly and nods to himself. James is a good guy and he's genuinely not worried about the praise and status he's going to get from this interview. He's worried about presenting their story appropriately and keeping the two of them safe.

Sure, James is goofy and he makes jokes ninety percent of the time, but he's also down to earth and caring. He's a trustworthy and patient friend.

He hasn't seen Harry or Louis since earlier this year, realistically. Between tour and other obligations they've been unable to sit down and enjoy lunch together. He saw them backstage earlier, visibly he was shocked at how different Harry appeared, and he had told him the same thing, if he needs a break he can have one, but Harry is stubborn and will try to push through even if he physically can't. He needs to constantly be reminded.

"Okay." Harry whispers.

James sits back in his chair and displays a smile for the cameras, "So boys, a lot had happened since I've seen you last," he pauses. "But I just can't think of what has changed. I saw a press story but I don't quite remember what it was about. Let's see," The crowd laughs. Everyone knows where he's going with this. "Louis you're no longer a single man, are you?"

"No James. I'm off the market."

"Harry? You're not single either are you?"

Harry laughs quietly, "No."

"Oh. That's right. For anyone who hasn't heard about it, the two of you are together aren't you? I've heard of your engagement as well. Congratulations."

James has known about Louis and Harry since the beginning about Louis and Harry, but in order to make this interview believable and serious he has to play it off as though he never had a clue of their prior relationship.

"Thank you."

"When's the wedding?"

Louis hesitates and glances over at Harry before he speaks, "Actually, we haven't started planning it yet."

"Well when you have a date set, I'll make sure to clear my schedule. As your best man I have a lot of obligations and duties to perform."

"James you're not -"

"I have _two_ bachelor parties to plan this time around, one for each of you. I'm getting exhausted just thinking about it. I've got to get strippers, beer..."

Louis opens his mouth to argue, but Harry reposes his hand to rest on Louis's thigh, "Let...him go."

James smiles, "Of course, I'm only kidding. But if you do decide that you need a last minute best man, you have my contact.  Do you have any idea which one of the boys will be your best man?"

"They've been arguing about it for the longest time," Louis points out, rolling his eyes, "At this point it'll most likely be none of them. I'm tired of hearing about it."

"The three of them are a force to be reckoned with," James simply agrees. "How long have the two of you been together?"

Harry answers, "2010."

James is playing straight up ignorant now. "Really? You've kept your relationship under wraps for nearly five years? There’s no possible way that you’ve been together five years. You’ve been together longer than I’ve been married.”

"Thursday was our five year anniversary as a band." Louis offers.

"That's absolutely insane. It seems like just last week you won your first Brit award and now you're on your what? Your third tour?"

Harry corrects, "Fourth."

"That's unbelievable. Speaking of your tour, when will you be starting again? Obviously, you understandably haven't been able to with Harry's procedure. But does recovery prevent the rest of this tour from happening?"

"Our tour rehearsals begin next week and we're meant to be on the road again sometime in August. I believe the first date is –" he glances over at Harry for assistance. He hasn’t kept up with all their upcoming dates, but he knows Harry has always been one to store them in the filing cabinet in the back of his mind.

"August 15th." Harry says, softly.

"You're on tour in a matter of weeks then. That’s rather shocking, if I must say so myself," James says in disbelief, "How does surgery change the setup of it all?"

Louis has to tell himself not to be hasty and bitter about the entire subject. He wanted to start tour early next year; to give Harry an extended time to recover without putting pressure on him, but management claimed that wasn't going to work for their scheduling.  He doesn’t want to have to worry about Harry becoming dizzy on stage and falling over and he certainly doesn’t want to worry about Harry having a seizure as a side effect of the stress on his body. "To be honest with you, I'm not sure. I know Harry isn't going to be jumping around like he was before. I imagine the atmosphere will be much more chilled out, maybe we'll be sat down for more songs, seeing as though he gets dizzy from standing up for too long." Louis's voice shifts in tone as he speaks; conspicuously he's getting angry the more he thinks about it.

"Harry, how are you feeling about tour starting up soon?"

Fuck. He really was trying to get away with not speaking much during this interview and James must have caught on. He doesn't want to sound like a blubbering idiot embarrass himself, regardless that Louis has told him he's ridiculous and he sounds beautiful when he speaks.

Louis turns to look at him as he contemplates what to say. He won't step in this time. Harry needs to regain his sense of pride and confidence.

"Um..." Harry starts, sounding uncertain, "I think that - well, it'll be...um," He voice falters due to his lack of tranquility.

James coaxes him, saying, "Take your time. We all value your opinion."

Harry nods subtly at him. He narrows his eyes as he focuses on his hands. "It'll be - defy -difficult to um...get into the route...routine of things."

"You're definitely right." James nods and he shushes himself when Harry begins to speak again.

"I...I'm nervous," He admits. Louis smiles softly as he listens to his fiancé speak. He sounds lovely, as always. "Don't want to...uh, disappoint."

"You're not going to disappoint," Louis tells Harry, sweetly, "You've got an amazing voice and a nice personality. You'll be just fine, babe. The boys all understand you’re not going to be back to yourself right away, you know that." He presses his lips to Harry's cheek. There's nothing to be afraid of anymore, they can be affectionate in public and it's the best feeling in the world to be free.

"You two are disgustingly cute. I want to hate what's going on here, but I can't bring myself to put a stop to it. Piss off."

Louis smirks, "Thank you."

“Are there any plans for a fifth album? I’ve heard a few rumors and I’d like to clear them up, for your sakes.”

“We finished the fifth album earlier this year. The release is still anticipated for November.” Louis replies, growing a bit more amused with the interview. He worked hard on this album with Liam, harder than any of the other albums. None of the other boys do a whole lot of writing, there are a few tracks here and there, but they aren’t the main song writers like Liam and Louis.

“What makes this album different than the others?”

“You’re really asking the hard hitting questions aren’t you?” Louis mocks. “Well, album number five –“He pauses. “You know, I can’t believe I’m even saying that. I think that just goes to show how our fans are the greatest in the world. They’ve stuck by us for five years and they truly are incredible. Massive thank you to our fans for their support. Can we get a round of applause?” Louis begins to clap, leading Harry, James, and the audience to do the same. They’re a bit dull at first, but soon the screams and whistles are also thrown into the celebratory atmosphere. “Round of applause? There we go!”

Harry presses his face against Louis’s shoulder and he laughs against him. Louis glances down at him and smiles; he presses his hand to Harry’s back and rubs gentle circles against the fabric of his shirt. “Getting back to the topic of the fifth album, we’ve tried to incorporate more rock, sort of 80’s influences. We’ve tried to give the entire album the vibe ‘Where Do Broken Hearts Go?’ and ‘No Control’ gave on the last album.”

“That ‘No Control’ track of yours was something else.”

“By something else you better mean sick. That track was one of the highlights of our album.”

James rolls his eyes, "Yes exactly what I meant,” James glances down at his note cards. On them, subjects are written down, subjects in which he must cover. “I'm going to get a bit more serious here," Louis scoffs at him. "Truly, we’re going to get onto a more serious note."

"Well go on then. What do you have to say?"

"I want to discuss Harry’s medical condition. I’m genuinely curious as everyone else is I’m sure. How has Harry's particular case of epilepsy affected the atmosphere of the band?" Harry sits up straight once the question is out there.

"Out of curiosity, am I meant to answer or are you asking Harry in a third person perspective?"

"I want you to answer and then Harry can."

"Oh okay," Louis says, sarcastically. "Well I guess Harry's epilepsy has affected the band as expected."

"You're going to have to give me a legitimate answer."

"I don't know what you want me say James," Louis sighs. "Obviously, it's a rough medical condition. He has seizures and they're unpredictable most of the time. The boys took to it very well when they were first told and since the beginning of One Direction they've been supportive and understanding. When Harry doesn't feel well, they understand that they need to back off and keep it quiet. He hasn't had an exorbitant amount of seizures in front of them, but when he does have them they know, for the most part, how to take care of him. They're like his older brothers in a weird sense." Louis shrugs. "Liam has always taken on a distinctive role in the matter. He primarily takes care of Harry when I'm not around."

James nods, "Harry?"

Harry thinks it over for a second, "They've always been...cautious and - um, protect...protective."

"Yeah, that's true too. They're very protective. If there are paparazzi being rude, especially on one of his off days, the boys will let them know that they need to stop. We love our fans, obviously, but sometimes the mobbing gets to be a bit too much and recently, since the announcement of his epilepsy, the boys have taken it upon themselves to get on twitter multiple times and tell the fans a simple, ‘Hey. Harry isn’t well today, so if you guys could please be respectful we’d appreciate it.’"

"That’s very thoughtful of them,” A smirk forms on James’s face, “You've been very vocal with the paparazzi in the past haven’t you Louis?" James says. The audience cheers and laughs along to that statement. Hell, even Harry grins at that statement. He’s seen the videos of Louis yelling profanity at the paparazzi and they make him laugh every time.

Louis grins, "I like to have a good time with me friends. I don't like when they get in the way. It's simple."

"I don't know that that's very good logic Louis," James points out. "Now, how has epilepsy affected your relationship? Is it possible to live like a normal couple?"

Harry picks the answer up immediately, "The normalcy was...lost a long - time ago."

Louis nods in agreement, "We already lost the normal aspect, as Harry said, when we decided to be together. Normal couples aren't supposed to live in the spotlight like we do or closeted like we were. The epilepsy is something that we've both learned to cope with. Of course, there are changes in everyday life, but the love we share isn't something that has ever shifted as a result of epilepsy. We argue about it sometimes, yes, but it's not something that we allow to control our relationship."

_Louis had assisted Harry up the front steps to the front door. Harry had become slightly suspicious of the car, that looked a lot like his mums, in the driveway, but he refused to say anything more to Louis after that breakdown he had in the hospital parking lot._

_By the time they arrived home it was nearly five in the afternoon._

_Louis hadn't said much to Harry after the breakdown either. He still sniffled every few minutes, but that was the only evidence that he had been crying._

_The only thing he had said to Harry in the last twenty minutes was, "I'll help you get out of the car."_

_Harry leaned against the structural post as Louis unlocked the door. A click was heard as the lock popped open and Louis pushed the door. "I'm back!" He called out to Anne._

_"Wonderful." he heard her say indirectly. She appeared from down the hallway with a man dressed in a pair of khakis and a moss green polo._

_Harry took a few timid steps behind Louis as he headed into the house, almost falling when he forgot to pick his feet up; apparently there was a step to get inside the house. He had never noticed it before, but then again, small things like that had never mattered much to him._

_Harry stood behind Louis, in the doorway, using the siding to keep himself upright._

_Louis wouldn't even look at him and yet he still hadn't understood what he did wrong._

_"Hi baby." She smiled when she saw Harry. The man beside her remained stoic as he handed her a white receipt of paper. "I take both cash and checks."_

_"Who's this?" Louis asked before the words could even be formed by Harry._

_"I'm an electrician. My names Dave." The man greeted._

_"Hello Dave. Why the hell are you in my house?"_

_"Louis," Anne scolded. "He works under a medical supply company. I told you I had someone hired to set up that alarm system, didn't I?"_

_"Oh." Louis mouthed._

_"So, with the costs of the supplies and travel fee, that brings you out to about five hundred pounds."_

_Louis groaned to himself and he withdrew his wallet from his pocket. He always carried excessive amounts of money on him, but not five hundred pounds worth. He walked into the kitchen, disappeared for a few minutes, and he came back with a pile of notes. He shoved it into Dave’s hand, "There. Get out of my house."_

_Anne sighed, "Louis."_

_Dave was quick to leave the home. He had all the money he needed and his task was fulfilled. He had nothing more to stick around for._

_Anne glanced towards Louis and soon after Harry. "What is the alarm system going to do? Huh?" Louis snapped._

_"The alarms are triggered if Harry were to fall or have a seizure in either the bedroom or the bathroom." Anne replied, crossing her arms over her chest, and she glared at Louis. "I only wish they would have had something like this when my baby was growing up and having frequent seizures. You should be grateful for this. I'm saving you from walking in on him bleeding on the shower floor. You only have to experience that once to never be the same again."_

_"He's not supposed to have grand mal seizures for the first few months after surgery, after that point it's unpredictable. This is useless for the time being."_

_Harry stood silently as he listened to Louis and his mum argue back and forth. He didn't understand what she was even doing here. After all, she wasn't taking care of him, Louis was._

_"Who's not say he doesn't trip and fall? Can you see the future? Do you know for a fact that Harry isn’t going to have a seizure Louis?"_

_"We have Bruce."_

_"Bruce isn't going to be in the shower with him."_

_Louis scoffed, "With all due respect, this is **my** house. He's **my** fiancé -"_

_"He's my son Louis."_

_"Whatever. I don't give a shit. If you want to take care of him, go right ahead. It's less stress that I have to deal with. I'd be happy for you to take him off of my hands. I don't want to deal with it anymore." As soon as the words came out, he shut his eyes, and drew in a deep breath. He hadn't meant to say that. He got angry and caught up in the moment, he couldn't control himself and he blurted out something he didn't mean._

_A shaky breath and a whimper forced him to look over his shoulder. He saw Harry staring at him with tears in his eyes. Harry was overly emotional as a result of the surgery as well._

_The things Louis said came out in frustration. He was stressed and exhausted; he didn't mean to make Harry feel worthless. He already hurt Harry's feelings earlier today, he didn't mean for it to happen a second time. "Harry, I'm sorry," he whispered. Any other time, if Harry was well enough, he'd fight back. But he wasn't well enough to fight back. "Love," Louis stepped closer to him and cupped his chin. "I didn't mean it. I love to be around you and I don't mind helping you." Louis met Harry's eyes. "Please don't cry. I didn't mean to make you upset, babe. I'm just so stressed and tired. I don't mean to say half the things I'm saying. I love you."_

_Harry sniffled as he looked down at Louis, "Why she is - here?" He didn't even try to correct his grammar He couldn’t speak properly. He could hardly hold himself up right. No wonder Louis didn’t want to be around him anymore._

_Louis looked towards Anne. Perhaps he should have been more grateful for the help. "Your mum? She's going to stay here and help us out a bit."_

_"No." Harry argued. "Not baby."_

_"I know you're not a baby. Sweetheart please." he moved one hand to rest on Harry's shoulder. "You're not a baby. I know. But we both need help around here. It's okay to need help, yeah?"_

_Harry whispered, looking away from him, "Fuck you."_

_"What?” He didn't understand. “Harry. Come on. Don’t be like that.” The foul language came out of nowhere or maybe he had upset Harry that much._

_"Fuck you." He repeated, louder and harsher this time._

_"Louis. Leave him alone." Anne ran her hands through her hair in frustration. “Harry. I’ll help you to the bedroom. You must be exhausted sweetheart, come on, how about you lay down and sleep.” She stepped in front of Louis, who was stood frozen with a puzzled expression painted on his features. She allowed him to loop his around her shoulders and proceeded to lead him to the bedroom down the hall._

_She came back out moments later with blazing eyes, “He’s really upset Louis.”_

_“What do you suggest I do about it Anne?” Louis argued. “I can’t even talk to him without saying the wrong thing. I’m the worst fiancé in the whole world. I feel awful about talking to him so poorly, but it’s difficult looking at him and knowing he has such a long road ahead of him. I’m terrified for his sake. For my sake.”_

_“Louis, I understand you’re stressed and tired, but he needs you. He needs you more than he needs me. I’m no longer his rock, I realized that today. I was sat down thinking and ever since he met you, I haven’t been his supporter. You took that responsibility away from me as soon as you two met. You’re the one who handles his medication, who takes him to his doctor’s appointments, and who settles him when he needs it. I’ll tell you, honestly, years ago, honey, I thought I would have taking care of Harry for the rest of my life; this certainly is a plot twist. He needs you more than he needs me. Go talk to him, please.”_

_“Fine. I’ll take care of it.” Louis sighed to himself before he forced himself to talk to Harry. He walked down the hallway and he stepped into the bedroom, the door was left wide open. He found Harry sitting up in bed, arms crossed over his chest, as he stared at the ceiling._

_Louis knocked on the open door. “Knock, knock. Can I come in?”_

_Harry shifted his attention to watch Louis. He didn’t say a word, didn’t even open his mouth to attempt to speak. Instead, he stared blankly at Louis._

_“Can we talk?”_

_Louis noticed the tears in Harry’s eyes. They were threatening to leak out, but Harry was trying to keep himself composed. Harry had only sniffled and dropped his head to look at his lap. Louis walked over to the bed and sat across from Harry, “You know, I’m really sorry about what I said in the car earlier today and I’m sorry what I said a few minutes ago too. I feel like I’m always apologizing to you and essentially I am. I don’t think before I speak. I want you to know that I’ve never hated you a day in my life, not even a little bit. You mean everything to me. Also, none of this is your fault. I understand that you can’t help any of this and I gave you the authorization for this surgery, so if it’s anyone’s fault, it’d be mine.”_

_Harry glanced up at him, lips quivering as he listened to him, and he shakily inhaled. “It’s…It’s okay.”_

_“No. Don’t say that. It’s not okay. You don’t deserve to be spoken to like that and you know it. I don’t know why I said I didn’t want to deal with this any longer either because this brings you and I closer. No one understands you like I do and nobody understand me like you do. That’s why we’re perfect for each other, Harry. We’re so different. I’m a hot-head. You’re always calm and collected. We balance each other out. You’re like, I don’t even know, Harry, you’re like the first drop of rain in my drought. You’re miraculous. I see a little of you and I want so much more, I want it all. I crave you. I crave your touch and your smile and your beauty. When you’re not near me, I feel empty and worthless. You make life worth living. I love you so much. I don’t think words will ever perfectly describe how perfect you are to me. I’m sorry for being awful to you. I sincerely hope we can move past today. Today is meant to be a happy day. You’re out of the hospital and your recovery begins today. I’m proud of you.”_

_Harry smiled at Louis, evidently choked up, as he brought his hand up to cover his mouth. Louis leaned forward and embraced Harry in the tightest hug he could. Harry cried against his neck, but this time for good reason, and out of happiness. His entire body shook with emotion as he held onto Louis._

_“I love you. You’re absolutely beautiful. Today is the first stepping stone. We’ve got a long way to go, but if we take our time, surely we’ll be fine. Like you said, love, we’re okay. We’ll always be okay, no matter what, you and I, until the end of time.”_

"We argue about it here and there. I'm a bit of a - you know, a jerk about it sometimes. I say things I don't mean to him and I make him upset. He makes me upset. It’s double-sided. It’s a rough matter to deal with and that shows through our communication and our lack of communication at times. I’ve made it clear to Harry that no matter what time it is, where I am, or even where we’re at emotionally with each other I will always come running to him. I will never allow him to feel alone during a seizure. I love him and I know it must be terrifying for him to experience by himself. It’s frightening for me and I’m not the one dealing with on a day to day basis. I’ve promised him that I’ll always be there with him.”

"It has to rough constantly worrying over someone."

"It is. But when I think about how hard I've got it, I think about his mum, Anne. Harry's had epilepsy since he was four years old. It's hard for me to fathom, as an adult, having a child who you're unable to help. What do you even do in that situation? You don't have a choice; really, all you can do is wait it out. That's all you can ever do." Louis swallows harshly and rubs his hand over his mouth.  “And you can’t help but look at Harry, or anyone who’s dealt with permanent sickness, and wonder why they were diagnosed with it. He’s one of the best people I’ve ever met. Why does he deserve to have such an awful medical condition when there are bad people out there, who’ve done worse things than we could ever even imagine, walking around sickness free? It doesn’t make sense to me, but then again I’m not the one who makes those decisions. Be thankful.”

“Is that why you’re involved in charities regarding children with illnesses? I know you’ve done quite a bit of charitable work for Bluebell Wood Children’s Hospice and The Eden Dora Trust.”

“I suppose so. I don’t have a particular reason; helping sick children is something that feels right in me heart. Though, Harry’s life story and his struggles have also impacted me greatly. I’m honored to be an important part of his life. He inspires me. Seeing children dealing with severe medical conditions and illnesses and still managing to live normal lives does inspire me greatly as well.”

“How do you feel about all of that Harry?”

“I…I’m very proud – of him,” Harry smiles. “He’s…changed me – my life. He’s extremely…impactful. I love him.”

Louis kisses his forehead, “I love you too.” He whispers.

“My life would…be so – different without him. I’m – grateful.” Harry nods. “He’s a…a beautiful person.”

James smiles at the two of them, “How has epilepsy impacted your life Harry? Is it hard to live with?”

"I think...the worst part of it all," Harry starts off, "is seeing - people you...um, you love - scared."

Louis glances towards Harry. He's never really heard Harry talk about epilepsy openly. He's always been self-contained about it. He typically ignores Louis's questions, this is surprising to him.

"Why do you say that?"

"Like..." Harry pauses. "It's different –  having a seizure."

James leans forward in interest, "Having a seizure is different than what?"

"Seeing one."

"Have you ever seen a seizure before?"

"Plenty," Harry truthfully says. "But - when you have one...it doesn't like, basically...um, you don't - feel it until you - you wake up. You, yourself, know...um, what will happen, but people around you...don't."

“That’s an interesting way to look at it.”

“Honestly, I’m…just thankful – for Louis. He’s always…taken care of me.”

Louis leans in close to Harry and whispers in his ear, “I take care of you because I love you. I don’t feel obligated.”

"If you don’t mind my asking and it isn’t too personal, what kind of seizures do you suffer from Harry? I don’t believe you’ve ever made a point of telling us."

"I -" Harry laughs. "I don't suffer. I continue to...to live on. I’m…I’m a happy guy."

Louis watches Harry closely and smiles widely, running his fingers over his lips as he tries to conceal his grin. Harry is such a little quirky shit.

James nods at him, a smile drawn across his lips too, "Of course. What kind of seizures do you have?"

"Um...tonic clonic, which like - you know - like big ones." Harry lifts his hands up and shows everyone what big looks like between his spaced out hands.

Louis mocks Harry's words and action, "Big ones."

"Com...complex partial...and absence." He counts them out on his fingers. He ends up holding three fingers up.

"Three types then?" James asks and Harry carefully nods. "What would you say is the worst type you experience?"

"Big ones."  Everyone in the audience laughs and ‘awws’ at the innocence in Harry’s tone, granted the subject isn’t light, Harry has a way of making it seem less awful than it truly is.

"What about you Louis?"

"Yeah, I agree, the tonic clonic are the worst. Harry’s typically come out of nowhere or they come with little warning, sometimes we’ll have a few minutes to act before they happen if we’re lucky. But they’re quite scary and the effects stay with him for days."

_Louis jolted awake to an unsteady slap to the back of the head. "What the hell Harry..." He muttered, tiredly, and shifted his position. He had turned away from Harry in the middle of the night, no longer spooning him, his back now to the younger boy._

_He was met with a rough voice wheezing out, "L - Lou."_

_"What Haz? Go back to sleep babe, please, we have to get up early in the morning." He grumbled, patently not picking up on Harry's struggle, he shifted his position again, shutting his eyes._

_"L -" A huge gasp for air. Harry didn't even bother finishing his word. He sounded like he was extremely upset, the shakiness in words gave it away that he was indeed crying, "D - don't - don't feel well."_

_Immediately, Louis sat up, flipped the light on and turned to face Harry in less than twenty seconds. "What's the matter babe? Is it your hay fever again? Can you breathe? Do you need your inhaler love?"_

_Harry lethargically shook his head, eyes blinking in a rapid pattern. "What's the matter?"_

_"S -" His voice cut off with groan. The groan most likely supposed to be a word, but Harry was unable to pronounce it._

_"Harry? Baby you've got to tell me what's going on." Louis said, cautiously._

_Harry's fingers began to twitch and Louis realized that seizure was about to take place. His fingers always spasmed first before seizures occurred, usually his finger cramps were followed by aberrant movements in his facial muscles, often appearing as tics._

_"How 'bout we get you up and on the floor yeah?"_

_"Can't - my legs," Harry drew in a wheezing breath. "Can't feel them."_

_It isn't that he couldn't literally feel his legs or he suddenly became paralyzed. He was aware he was losing neural and muscular functions. His legs would most likely give out if he was to try to stand and he knew that. Louis couldn't - and still can't - always support his weight. Harry isn't overweight by any means, but 165 pounds is a lot of man, more than Louis can handle at all costs._

_"How bad is it? Are we dealing with a petit mal or a grand mal?" Louis tried to understand what Harry was about to go through in a matter of minutes, perhaps even seconds. Maneuvering his hand to come into contact with Harry's cheek, he tried to gain Harry's attention but Harry was practically staring through him. "Sweetheart, can you hear me? Are you there Harry? Nod your head if you can hear me."_

_The main difference between a petit mal, otherwise known as an absence seizure, and a grand mal, the kind of seizure almost everyone associates epilepsy with, is there isn't a loss of consciousness or severe thrashing._

_Absence seizures are simply short interruptions in the brain, where patients will lose focus of what they're doing for several seconds before returning to normal. Louis would much rather deal with absences, which Harry has always dealt with, usually multiple times a week, then tonic clonic fits. It’s far less emotional and he doesn't have to worry about Harry hurting himself obscurely or not ever waking after a fit._

_Louis can't help but feel bad for Harry when these sort of situations occur. He doesn't know nor will he ever know how Harry feels before, during, and after a seizure. He hates that Harry is the one who has to go through it. If he could change places with Harry, he would. He would take every ounce of his pain away and put it all on himself._

_The truth of the matter is Harry doesn't deserve to be struck with such an intense sickness, not that anybody does, but Harry is such a genuine and kind person. With all the work he does for charities and world issues along with his love for practically everyone on the planet, given Louis receives a bit more love than everyone else; he's one of the best people in the entire world._

_Harry slowly nodded at Louis before he spoke - or incoherently slurred rather, "We no no an' hur' it eh." He started to wriggle around in infuriation because he couldn't convey how he was feeling to Louis properly. Louis wasn’t understanding him, at all, and it was frustrated him. He wanted Louis to understand._

_"Shh. You don't have to speak right now. It's okay. It’s okay. Calm down. Calm down for me Haz." He watched Harry closely as he stared forward. His green eyes were ablaze with frustration, even with every movement Louis made in front of him, Harry would hardly react._

_Seconds later, he noticed Harry's bottom lip beginning to droop to the left and a mass of saliva beginning to dribble down his chin and cascade into the material of his sleep shirt. Louis reached forward to wipe away what he could of the formation of bodily fluid with the bottom of his own t-shirt. "There's my beautiful boy. How are you doing? Hang in there okay? I'm going to help untangle you from all these sheets." He didn't know whether Harry could understand him or not, considering everything in the curly headed lads mind seemed to jumble into mush in these situations._

_Bruce had made his appearance noticeable when he started barking and scratching at the bed, obviously wanting to get up there with the two of them. Louis glanced towards him, moved, and allowed Bruce to jump onto the bed for the time being._

_Immediately, Bruce had gone to Harry and began to nudge his hand with his snout. He sniffed Harry's arm and subsequently let out a wounded howl. He knew something was wrong with Harry, granted that's what his job was as a service dog. Harry had evidently been endeavoring to move his hand to touch Bruce's nose, but to no surprise, he was unable to. He was palpably straining himself in the effort to move. That is until Louis touched his forearm, "Stay still, okay my love? Don't move. It's going to be worse if you try to fight against it."_

_He glanced towards Bruce, even used his hand to guide him away from Harry. "Get down. Now. Bad dog. Get down." He said through clenched teeth. Bruce growled at him before Louis threatened him with an open palm. He'd never hit their dog and he would never, but the threat was enough to get Bruce off of the bed._

_Louis had always hated the start of seizures like this. Harry appeared as though he was going to have a stroke, with his inability to move and the dropping of his lip, and the single thought of Harry suffering from a stroke scared him. "I'm going to help you move okay babe? Here we go," He peeled the duvet back and quite literally tossed it to the side before diving in for the sheets. Harry had his legs intertwined with the silky fabric._

_Louis gently slid Harry's legs to the side before yanking both the fitted sheet and the loose sheet off and tossing them away as well. "There we are. You're not being held down by sheets any longer. You can move a bit more freely. Are you still there love?"_

_He would have preferred to have Harry on the floor, not because he was worried about Harry making a mess or throwing up on their bed, but he wanted to ensure Harry's safety._

_A loud cry, something close to a screech, emitted from the back of Harry's strangled throat, gaining Louis's attention and coercing him to wince at the inhumane noise._

_He didn't even have time to move Harry into a proper position before the convulsing began. It hadn't built up from twitching into thrashing, rather one moment Harry had been completely taut and the next he was forcing the entire bed to shake. Louis glanced towards the electronic alarm clock. 3:26._

_"Hey, babe, it's okay," Louis whispered, though the words of comfort were for himself. Harry couldn't hear him as he was completely unconscious. "Your breathing sounds excellent. Keep it up for me darling. Only a little longer and you'll be just fine."_

_Harry's head was being repeatedly thrown back against the mattress and his limbs sporadically jerked in ways unforeseen by most of the human population. His hips unconventionally jolted as his feet stiffened and his toes pointed downwards. An obscene choking noise had become the prominent sound in the room. "Come on Haz. Come on. It's okay. You're going to be okay, love. Come back to me princess. It’s going to be just fine. I’ve got you." He whispered. Harry’s eyes were open, the absolute most horrifying thing Louis saw during Harry’s seizures. He could see Harry struggling through his eyes; Harry was still there underneath all the shaking and cries, but he was unable to communicate with Louis._

_Louis's hands hesitated above Harry. He was debating where to touch Harry. He wanted to be gentle, "Shh. It's okay Harry. I'm taking really good care of you, like I always do, yeah." He finally decided on putting his hand on one of Harry's hips. Gently clutching his hip to hold him relatively still, he used his other hand to rub Harry's clenching stomach. He was attempting to keep Harry in one place, without forcing him down and possibly injuring him, while offering him comfort. "Easy babe. Take it easy. It'll be alright."_

_Glancing towards the clock in short intervals, he realized that the red letters turned to 3:27, 3:28, and then 3:29 before the spasming started to slow down. "There we go." By the time five minutes had passed from the beginning of the fit, the only evidence that Harry had indeed had a seizure was the discoloration of his cheeks and the tic, forcing him to repeatedly pout, in his bottom lip._

_"Harry? Can you hear me? Harry, if you can hear me I want you look at me. Haz. Look at me."_

_By the time Harry had finally lethargically opened his eyes, Louis had made minutes worth of threats, all without backing an ounce of anger or venom._

_Harry blinked away the blur from his eyes. Slowly, he focused on Louis sitting to the side of him._

_"Welcome back. Are you with me?" Louis whispered, taking the opportunity to move closer._

_Harry started visibly choking on the bloody saliva accumulated in his mouth, making unfriendly clucking noises as he tried to breathe. He was too confused to help himself; Louis quickly moved to tilt Harry's head forward. The liquid oozed out of his mouth like syrup._

_"There we go. Much better. Are you okay? Can you breathe?"_

_Harry garbled out, "Leh..no ana at pen."_

_Louis nodded as though he understood. He brought his hand to Harry's face before pushing his hair off of his pasty skin._

_He pressed his lips to Harry's forehead while Harry resisted him, trying to sit up and move away from his touch._

_"You had a seizure Harry. Lay back and relax for me. It's okay. I'm going to take care of you. Don’t fight me. I’m trying to help you."_

_Harry whined, "I don' wan' have seizure."_

_"No love. You already had a seizure. You're recovering from one right now. Will you tell me if you're going to be sick?"_

_'Wha'?" Harry mumbled, eyes still trying their hardest to hold focus on Louis._

_"Are you going to be sick Haz? Do you feel sick to your stomach?"_

_"No," Harry shook his head. His breathing was still heavy, but he was gradually able to regain it. "Ooooh." He moaned, swatting at Louis's hand on his stomach. "Oooheeee."_

_It took a moment, or several, for Louis to realize that Harry was trying to pronounce his name. "What is it babe?"_

_"Dusty."_

_"Dusty? You mean your cat? Sweetheart, you know your mum has her at her house in Holmes Chapel."_

_"No. Really...dusty." He pointed to his head._

_"Oh. Are you dizzy?" Louis whispered to which Harry nodded. "It's alright. You've got to quit moving around, yeah? Lay back and sleep. I know you're tired." Louis kissed the tip of his nose before guiding Harry down to lay back, flat on the mattress. He slowly slid out of bed. "I'm going to help you change your trousers and pants, okay? It doesn't look like you leaked onto the covers. Relax while I help you change. I’ve got it all taken care of. Don’t worry."_

_"I love you." Harry murmured._

_Given, Harry was disoriented and half-asleep, the genuine expression of the phrase was all there._

_"I love you too Harry,"_

"Are those the kind you most commonly have?"

Harry smiles light-heartedly, "No - a lot of...absences."

"Now what's that?"

"He zones out for say, fifteen seconds ,once he's done, he's perfectly fine." Louis explains. "You've been around him when he's had them. They're common."

"Oh. Well now I can’t get angry at you for ignoring my questions,” James teases, “Did the surgery he had cure his epilepsy?"

"No. There's nothing that will cure his epilepsy as of now. The surgery removed an area of his brain that was being severely affected by the frequent seizures. His doctor told us that the frequency rate of his seizures might lower."

" _Might_?"

"Yes. No one knows for fact."

James looks up at one of the cameramen and he sees a finger indicating he only has close to a minute left, "I'm running out of time with the One Direction boys." He turns his body to face Louis and Harry. "We'll see you on tour in a matter of weeks."

"We're kicking it off in San Diego."

"Brilliant. Best of wishes to you Harry. I hope your recovery continues to go well and congratulations on your engagement. Did I cover it all?" He jokes.

"I reckon you did."

"I've been James Corden. This has been The Late Late show. Thank you to Reggie Watts and his band for their lovely music. Thank you Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson for joining me tonight on the sofa. And thank you for watching. Have a great night."

"That's a wrap." The lead cameraman declares.

James looks towards Louis and Harry, "You two did fantastic. Thank you for filming with me."

"The questions were great. I think we both expressed exactly what we wanted to. Thank you." Louis glances towards Harry and he can see exhaustion crossing his features. His eyelids are beginning to hood his eyes. "I'm going to get him home." Louis stands up and he nudges Harry to remind him that he can't sleep on the interview sofa. Harry gets to his feet and he leans into Louis.

"Thank you JC!" Harry laughs.

"Come on love. Let's go back to the house."

“It was fantastic seeing you two. Let’s do lunch soon.” James hugs both of them for a final time.

Louis drives them back to their L.A home and walks Harry to their shared room. Louis reassures himself that they'd been fine today and they had done a decent job for their first interview as a couple.

He leads Harry to the bedroom, just down the hall and he closes the door, locking the world away from he and Harry.

As soon as Harry lies down in bed, he struggles to stay awake. Louis slips into bed beside him. It might only be early evening, but Louis can still sleep away the night with Harry by his side.

He presses his lips to Harry's forehead. "You did amazing today. I love you."

He watches Harry sleep for nearly two hour before he himself feels fatigued. Harry looks peaceful as he sleeps. His eyelashes lay gracefully across his cheekbones and his lips remain parted with every breath.

Louis's mind is completely avoidant of everything that's gone wrong in past months, the mistakes in their romance, and the reactions from some of the rude fans they had obtained. He is devoted to his love and hope for Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFnIBBVWbMw


	13. Chapter 13

"Tomlinson!" Louis pauses in his tracks when he sees a short, pudgy man emerge from one of the corridors of the stadium. He looks towards Liam and exchanges a expression of disgust before Liam dismisses himself and walks over to Zayn.

"What can I do for you?" Louis asks, monotonously, as he hops off of the stage, becoming face to face with the man.

"I've gotten word of an distraction on stage.”

“Distraction? What distraction?”

“You know exactly what I’m speaking of. What is that mutt doing here, Tomlinson?"

Louis being the smart ass he is, glances around, appearing oblivious to Bruce resting at Harry's feet, "What mutt are you speaking of?"

"The mutt that’s - " There's a pause and subsequently a growl like noise, "Don't play dumb with me. Why is there a dog currently on my stage?"

"It's hardly your stage. I reckon the city of San Diego owns it don't they?"

"You know what I mean," Norman, one of their tour executives, glowers at him. "I never gave you authorization for animals."

"I'm going to say this one last time. Listen to me, Harry is not ready to do this. He's still in the recovery phase of this entire process. I mean look at him," Louis turns his head and peers across the stage where Harry's sitting on a platform, feet dangling down, with Niall sitting by his side, hand resting on his back. "That is not the face nor the posture of a man ready to go for a stroll in the park, let alone continue a world tour. Therefore, I've brought his service dog because I hardly doubt you want Harry falling out in the middle of rehearsals without some kind of immediate assistance and anyways, Harry enjoys his presence and Bruce is a good dog."

"There's no need for an animal. The choreography has been changed plenty to assist Harry. He's sitting for nearly three quarters of the shows. That dog is just going to get in the way of rehearsals. He's a distraction."

"Listen, Norman, I don't think you understand. Just because you've changed the choreography doesn't mean a damn thing. You, along with everyone else, can't predict when or if Harry's going to have a seizure, no matter the type. Let him have this. The dog obviously won't be on stage when we perform, but is it hurting anyone to have the dog's reassurance during rehearsals and on the tour bus?"

"You're going to get him comfortable with that dog and when it becomes time to perform he's going to choke, like he always does."

Louis has to physically take a step back, refrain from grabbing the older man's collar, and threatening his life. "Harry hasn't ever given you a bad performance."

It's not as though Louis's fibbing, Harry has always given any and all performances his best. He doesn't like to disappoint. So, for an executive to try and belittle him and take that pride away from him irks Louis to no end.

"I can think of a few."

"I won't argue anymore with you," Louis declares. He knows deep in his heart Harry is amazing and just because some crude corporate businessman doesn't believe it doesn't mean it isn't so. "But for your information that dog is here to make him comfortable enough to find the confidence to perform again. He's been a nervous wreck for the past two months about returning to perform. Whatever it takes to help him, you better believe I will do." Louis starts to turn away from him.

"No you won't. You seem to forget that you're under contract and I have the upperhand. If I want that damn dog off of the stage, you better believe that I could have it removed with a snap of my fingers."

Louis scoffs, turns back around, and glares at Norman, "You'll have a huge lawsuit on your hands. I will sue you."

"For what? Removing a dangerous animal from a stringent work environment?"

"Dangerous animal? That dog wouldn't and has never hurt anyone." Louis argues.

"The court doesn't know that."

"I cannot believe you're making a big deal out of this. Bruce is a seizure response dog. He's here to help a disabled man. If, worst case scenario, Harry has a seizure during rehearsals or backstage then it would be helpful to be alerted. I'm not even anticipating a seizure, all I'm attempting to do, like I said earlier, is make him more comfortable by having constant reassurance that if something bad happens Bruce will be there even if I can’t be."

Forgetting to think before he speaks, Norman blurts out, "And just what do you think will happen if he has a seizure during a live show? That dog won’t be there to help him."

"Oh, I know what I'm going to do. But I want you to tell me, what are you going to do if he has a seizure during a live show?" Louis asks, he speaks lowly, holding on annoyance and fury in his unfriendly tone of voice.

Norman flushes. "I - I suppose, well I could...um." He stutters out.

"If my fiancé has a seizure during one of your shows, there will be hell to pay, do you hear me? If Harry has a seizure as a result of being forced to come back to performing so soon, I will sue you for every penny you're worth. I won't stop there either. So help me god, if he has a seizure I will make sure no one else ever mentions your management company again."

"You don't have the power."

"You'd be surprised with what I could accomplish. Imagine the stories I could tell to the media. The closeting, the mistreatment, the stress. Hell, do tell me why you think Zayn is depressed? Could it possibly be from being overworked for five years? That would be a great story on its own. Not to mention the lack of sympathy for Harry’s medical condition. You do realize that also Harry's recent medical issues originated from stress, correct? Trust me, I could have a field day with the media."

"You wouldn't -"

"I'm done with this conversation. Nice chat, but I've got more things to tend to rather than wasting another ten minutes arguing with you." Louis simply shuffles away, pulls himself back onstage, and walks up the catwalk until Liam comes, seemingly, out of nowhere and grabs hold of his upper arm.

"Slow down. You look like homicidal maniac. What's wrong?  What did he say to you?" Liam releases his arm at the first sign of agitation that crosses Louis's face. Zayn appears beside Liam and remains silent as he too watches Louis, waiting for an appropriate answer.

"What an asshole. He's pissed off because I decided to bring Bruce along and he was threatening to forcibly remove him, which is bullshit.

"He doesn't think Bruce being here is a good idea?"

Louis adds, "He doesn't think any possible distractions are a good idea."

"He's not distracting anyone, not even Harry, or Niall, and we all know how easy it is for him to get off track," Liam argues. "Harry's been doing a great job. They’re always looking for something to complain about."

"Has he?" A smile forms on Louis's face. Now, that's something he likes to hear.

"Definitely. Helene's been helping him a lot with his vocals and he sounds really good. I think he'll do great at the show tonight."

“She isn’t putting too much pressure on him is she? I don’t want him to get overwhelmed. I told her that she’d have to hand off some of Harry’s vocals because they’re - “ Louis starts to ramble, which in turn forces him to grow ten times more panicked the more he thinks about anything that could possibly go wrong.

Immediately, as soon as it starts, Zayn puts a stop to the madness leaking out of Louis, “Easy bro. Liam’s taking his solo in the Story Of My Life chorus. Niall’s covering his part of the bridge in Midnight Memories. I’m taking over Clouds. We’ll figure out if there’s anything else that he might not be able to sing.”

The best news that has come from Harry’s operation, aside from the likelihood of his frequency of seizures lowering, is that fact that his singing hasn’t been affected like his talking has, but he still needs work on his vocals since he hasn’t used them in months.

His pattern of speaking has improved significantly, since Louis hired a speech therapist to join them on tour.

As Dr. Richards explained in one of Harry’s many, many, post-operation check-ups, singing is a repetitive behavior and typically only one region of the brain is used to produce lyrics and sounds. When speaking it’s vastly different because every time someone speaks they form brand new sentences and different regions of the brain are used, depending on what the topic of discussion happens to be. Singing is also used as a form of therapy from time to time.

“You need to take some time to relax. I’m no doctor, but even I can see this stress is wearing you down. You don’t have to worry anymore. He’s got eyes on him all times of the day. It isn’t left up to you primarily anymore.” Liam replies, bluntly.

Louis attempts to joke, completely ignoring what Liam was trying to get at,”You’d be a shit doctor.”

“Why’s that? I happen to have fantastic bedside manner.”

Zayn and Louis share a glance before busting into a proper fit of laughter, “Yeah, okay, Liam. At this point, you’re a bit too corrupted.”

“Thanks to the two of you.”

Zayn shrugs, “I don’t take offense to that. You should be thankful we got you to loosen up. You were an absolute tit before.”

“Whatever. Piss off.”

“Come on Payno. Lighten up.” Louis jabs him in the ribs with his bony elbow.

All three of them twist their heads in the direction of Niall’s brogue shouting out, “Hey! What do you think yer doing? Sit down and relax.”

Louis quirks an eyebrow up at Harry striding down the catwalk, he’s a bit lethargic with all his movements, which is to be expected, but it’s great to see him gradually gaining his momentum back. Compared to where he was two months ago, on bed rest for nearly twenty four hours of the day and unable to do as much as shower by himself.

_“Now, are you going to continue to stare at me or are you going to give me an answer?” Louis asked, leaning into the doorway as he watched Harry continue to lay in bed. “Do you want to shower?” He repeated slower, as though Harry couldn’t understand him, even though he very well knew he could. Harry was stubborn, there wasn't much more to it._

_“Yes.” Harry said, automatically._

_“There we go, now lets just get you up and -” Louis began to walk towards Harry before Harry’s voice sharply cut him off._

_“No.”_

_Louis froze in the center of the room, his hands moved to drop down at his sides, “No what? Didn’t you just say, not even ten seconds ago, that you wanted a bath?”_

_“By...my - myself.” Harry stated, though his eyebrows furrowed slightly in exasperation when the words didn’t come to his as fluently as they had in his head._

_A sigh emerged from Louis’s lips, “You know that you can’t shower by yourself, yet. You’ve been out of the hospital for only three days, you can hardly stand on your own. If a big enough breeze came by, I’d be picking you up off of the floor, don’t you tell me any different.”_

_“‘m...not,” Harry paused before he cleared his throat and tried again, “Not helpless.”_

_“Darling, I never said that,” Louis met Harry’s eyes briefly before Harry glanced off to the side. “Haz, I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to do, okay? I just want to make sure you get in the shower and get out, all without falling.”_

_“No.”_

_“Harry, honestly, how is this any different from you and I showering together before your procedure? I’ve seen all of you more times than I can count,” Harry still wasn’t convinced. “I’m not your nurse, I’m going to be your husband for fuck’s sake, alright? No one in the world loves you more than I do. I’m not going to scrub you down or treat you any differently than I have before just because you need a little more guidance now. I don’t mind helping you.” Harry was glaring at the closet doors, trying his best to avoid Louis’s knowing stare. He hated that Louis knew everything there was to know about him._

_Finally, he brought his gaze back to focus on Louis, “Fine.” He muttered._

_“There we go,” Louis moved closer to the king sized bed, before grabbing underneath Harry’s arm and helping him sit up. “You’re going to love the shower cap I bought for you. It has little frogs on it.”_

_Harry glanced up at him and for the first time all day, he bellowed a laugh, covering his face with one of his large hands. “Aren’t you just adorable?” Louis leaned down and pressed his lips to the top of Harry’s hand._

Niall follows suit, walking a steady pace behind Harry, and Bruce trails behind Niall.

Harry beelines for Louis and engulfs him in a tight embrace. He has to bend down in order to bury his face in Louis’s neck, which he definitely doesn’t mind doing and Louis definitely doesn’t mind being part of.

Niall smiles at the two of them and proceeds to gather the bundle of tan, curly fur, otherwise known as Bruce, into his arms. Bruce begins to lick his face with no signs of stopping.

“Feeling alright?” Louis whispers, bringing his hand up to the back of Harry’s clothed head. He wears his Green Bay Packers beanie, the one with the cute little pom pom at the end of it, over his slowly growing hair. It’s unlike anything he’s ever witnessed before. Sure, he realizes that hair doesn’t grow back to it’s original length overnight, but two months have passed and Harry’s hair has only grown enough to look less buzzed to his scalp. His scar is still highly evident, though it will always be semi-visible, he refuses to take off his hat until it’s less likely to be pointed out by opinionated reporters and rude fans who look for a reason to make fun of him, or any of the boys for that matter.

There’s multiple factors behind where Harry got his reasoning.

Louis thought it would be a good idea to take Harry over to his mum’s place with him, when in reality he didn’t truly have another option. He wasn’t going to leave the responsibility of taking care of a recovering brain surgery patient, who suffers from unpredictable epilepsy, into the hands of one of the boys or another friend and Harry absolutely refused to be left in the same household as his mum.

Ultimately, they traveled to Doncaster with no problem at all, Harry slept the entire three hours there, only waking once when Louis made too sharp of a turn. He isn’t the best driver there has ever been, he is reckless, though he tries to keep his antics under control when he has Harry or one of his many siblings riding alongside him. It was once they had arrived to the Tomlinson, now Deakin, household had there been a problem.

_“Oh love, don’t be silly, you don’t need to wear that cap around my family.” Louis smiled softly at Harry once they had pulled in the elongated driveway of the Tomlinson - Deakin residence. He reached over the center console, moving the tips of his fingers to the hem of Harry’s black beanie. He slowly pulled the hat off of his head, giving Harry a once over, a fond look crossing his blue eyes, before he had set the heap of black material down on the dashboard. His thumb etched an invisible path along Harry’s jawline. “You’re beautiful.” Louis whispered. The pad of his thumb glided across and up Harry’s chin until he was running it along Harry’s bottom lip._

_Harry had parted his lips, drawing in shaky breaths as he intensely stared at Louis, wondering what thoughts could possibly peaking his interest. His bright blue eyes had taken on a mischievous shimmer as he kept a close eye on Harry’s movements._

_Finding himself involuntarily pouting his lip, he endeavored to draw it back to its normal, pursed position, but Louis quickly caught the pink skin in between his thumb and pointer finger, squeezing the flesh until he had made his point clear, “Don’t you dare Harold.”_

_Gingerly, he released Harry’s lip, only to replace the touch of his fingers with the touch of his own lips. His hand rested at the nape of Harry’s neck, kneading tender circles into Harry’s tense muscles as he assured him with constant touches that the kiss was all he hoped for._

_Harry’s hands awkwardly curled in on themselves as they laid laxly on his lap, uncertain of how to touch Louis without losing the passion of the moment. It reminded the both of them of the first kiss they shared, it had been gawky and sloppy, the only difference between now and then was they knew they both had already gained what they originally craved._

_The kiss had intensified, soon all tension and anxiety flooded from his veins and he found himself engrossed in the gesture. Louis sunk his teeth into Harry’s bottom lip, coercing a choked gasp to withdraw itself from Harry._

_A smirk painted itself on Louis’s face, even his eyes crinkled with pleasure, he couldn’t wait until Harry would be cleared to get physical with him. He could see it in that moment, a whirlwind of emotion would hit him all at once, lust would control his every move, every look, every word. He would whisper in a voice, octaves lower than his mundane one, all the dirty things he had been holding in for weeks. He would be able to feel Harry’s blood rushing to the surface from the sultry foreplay._

_The thoughts circulating inside of his devious mind, had him shifting uncomfortably in the driver’s seat. Shame, he made himself hard. Who wouldn’t get hard at the thoughts of a withering Harry, out of breath, as he moaned his lover’s name in a disoriented haze of accelerated emotion._

_“I love you.” Louis murmured, his fingertips dotted down Harry’s spine until he was able to slip his hand completely up underneath Harry’s t-shirt._

_Harry’s back unintentionally arched, a hiss adding to the low hum of the engine heard throughout the interior of the car, “Cold.” Louis could, indeed, feel the difference of temperature between the palms of his hands and Harry’s back._

_“I can’t help that you’re the heat miser all year long, can I?” Louis laughed, continuing to kiss Harry until a loud knock on the passenger had both of them bolting upright, white as ghosts, eyes wide with panic until they realized that it was Lottie._

_Louis rolled his eyes, simply whispered the word “Later” to Harry, and pulled away from his soon to be husband before he promptly shouted, “The door’s unlocked!”_

_Lottie harshly pulled Harry’s door open, hardly giving him a glance, as her eyes focused on her brother, one hand resided on her hip, “What were the two of you doing out here?”_

_“What does it matter?”_

_“Well, lets see, the curtain for the window in the front room was drawn open, so it doesn’t really matter what you say you were doing, you put on a show for the entire family.”_

_“So?”_

_Harry slapped his hand over his face, mumbling out something about being embarrassed, even though Louis could hardly make out what he was saying, his flushed skin hinted at the embarrassment aspect._

_“So...you should really keep that stuff for - I dunno, yourselves, perhaps? No one wants to see the two of you making out like that.”_

_“I could think of more than a few.” Louis replied, indirectly indicating the huge fan base they have._

_“Okay, smartass, I guess you win,” Lottie sighed, overdramatically, of course. Finally, she batted her eyelashes before glancing at her favorite, and only, brother-in-law. She hadn’t seen him since before the operation and now that she had laid eyes on him she was quite startled. She opened her mouth to speak, but quickly clamped her tinted lips back together as she looked at Louis for guidance._

_Harry had finally looked up, his rouged lips swollen and pupils blown wide, quizzically looking between the two siblings. Lottie found her voice soon enough, “Harry! It’s so good to see you!” She cheered, trying to hide the concern in her voice. He wasn’t the same Harry she remembered seeing weeks prior. She had never seen any other side of him aside from the charming, life of the party, terrible joke telling, unbelieveably and outstandingly gorgeous Harry Styles._

_She cautiously wrapped her arms around him, chin resting on his shoulder, as she hugged him as tightly as she could. She was nearly seventeen years old, she was old enough to know that everything she was seeing was definitely strange. Her eyes locked with Louis’s and all he could do was mouth, “I know.”_

_Lottie swallowed down her emotions, knowing that’s what Louis most likely expected of her at that point in time. Harry pressed his lips to the side of her head and subsequently allowed her to pull away. She stood up straight, now showing her discomfort as she crossed her arms over her chest, “Mum is ecstatic to see the both of you. She’s been cleaning the guest room and cooking all morning.”_

_“You helped her, yeah? You know I hate it when she -”_

_“Of course Louis. I’m not useless. Why are you always so hard on me? For your information, I took care of the twins, fed them and changed their diapers and all that.”_

_Louis scoffed, “You’re a saint.”_

_“Tell me something I don’t know, dickhead.”_

_Harry laid his head back against the headrest in frustration, shutting his eyes as the siblings continued to bicker._

_Louis’s features contracted as he grew frustrated with his sister’s mood swings, “Just go inside. We’ll be in momentarily.”_

_“I’m an adult. You can’t tell me what to do.”_

_“You’re sixteen years old. You’re not an adult. Just go inside, would you? I don’t understand why you have to be so bloody difficult all the time. You’re not like this when I allow you to come on tour with the lads and I.”_

_“I choose to come on tour.” Lottie said, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder._

_Louis huffed out an agitated breath, “Well, let’s just see how good your decision to come on tour works out next time.”_

_Lottie rolled her eyes before turning on her heel and storming inside the family home. Harry watched her disappear from sight completely after she slammed the door behind her. He could imagine Jay’s soft voice scolding her for being so disruptive._

_“Louis.” Harry whispered._

_“Let’s go inside, okay.” It wasn’t a question, more or less a statement._

_Once they had stepped inside the family room, Louis instantly wished he had just postponed any sort of family gathering, even if it was just his mum, step-dad, and siblings. He didn’t like the way they were looking at Harry and by the expression spanned across Harry’s face he didn’t approve of it either._

_“Mum.” Louis snapped. It was unlike any tone he had ever taken up with her before. After all, hadn’t she been the one who taught him and his sisters, and would soon teach Ernest and Doris, that staring at people was disrespectful?_

_If he hadn’t know better he would have thought the Queen of England herself was standing in the family living space, judging by all the looks directed at Harry._

_“Is anyone going to say hello?”_

_“Of - of course, my apologies, I just - I was very surprised at how good you look Harry. Most brain surgery patients look a lot worse.” Jay blabs, without properly sorting her words out before speaking. “I mean,  of course you don’t look bad at all, but I’m not used to seeing you look so rundown. Oh goodness - I mean…”_

_Louis rubs his temples, suddenly wishing he could have disappeared from that very uncomfortable situation. “Mum, stop.”_

_And to make matters worse, he had Harry tugging at his sleeve, saying I’m dizzy over and over again._

_“Come Harry. You can sit down over here love.” Jay gestured for Fizzy to stand up and find a seat elsewhere. Louis guided Harry, by the small of his back, to the loveseat, where Fizzy and Jay had been seated when they’d first come in._

_“How’s this? Better?”_

_Harry pressed his forehead against Louis’s shoulder, shakily breathing, and Louis recognized that type of behavior. He didn’t need Harry crying on him. They hadn’t even been there for five minutes and Harry was already flustered and embarrassed and his family weren’t making anything better._

_“There’s nothing to be upset over,” Louis cooed, wrapping a single arm around Harry, and tugging him up against his side. “Shh, my love, don’t get upset. The party’s just begun. Party time.” He tried to tease, taking one of Harry’s hands in his, and forcing it into a fist. He attempted to get Harry to fist bump the air, but once he realized Harry wasn’t feeling up to it, he simply stopped._

_Jay jumped back in quickly, stepping closer to the two of them, yet careful to not crowd them. She squatted down, resting her hand on the middle of Harry’s back, “It’s great to see you, honey, I am so sorry about how everyone reacted. We were all taken a bit off guard, but I think you look marvelous.” Jay whispered, tracing patterns against Harry’s back. She had always done that with Louis when he was a child._

_Louis glanced at her and his mouth drew up into a half smile. He nodded in gratitude to her. “See, what did have I been telling you this entire time? You look beautiful.” He kissed Harry’s forehead. “Absolutely stunning.”_

“Tell Niall to...to stop babysitting…me.” Harry mutters against Louis’s neck. At least that gives him an answer to the question he desperately wanted to know. He now knows that Harry is feeling alright, if he wasn’t he wouldn’t be complaining about Niall, rather he wouldn’t complain about him with such personality in his voice. He’d been lacking all his Harry mannerisms in his speech patterns in the past weeks.

Louis snickers, sliding his hand off of Harry’s head and onto his back, “Sorry babe. I gave him that job.”

“Are you...you...you - um,” Harry pauses completely and Louis patiently waits, as he always does. This part of the speech issues is the one tending to stick around the longest, but it becomes less and less frequent as days pass. He only trails off and speaks like a broken record a few times a day, “Are you paying him well?”

“Paying him well? Oh, I see, you mean to babysit you. Of course not. I promised him an extra bag of my crisps on the tour bus if he kept an eye on you and he jumped at the chance.

Niall quickly corrects Louis, “You said you’d cover the bill for lunch for the next week.”

“Well seeing as you let him get out of your immediate reach not even two hours in, the deal has been broken. Zayn even kept an eye on him better and don’t we all know how careless Zayn is.”

Zayn smiles, “Isn’t that the truth?”

“That’s bullshit! You can’t compare me to Zayn when he has little siblings and anyway I’m returning him in orginal condition.” Niall argues.

Liam interjects, “Bloody hell Niall he isn’t a library book.Don’t get so worked up, Jesus Christ, you’re rich. You can buy your own lunch.”

“You should never deny free food when it's being offered for petty tasks.”

“Honestly, how did this become topic of discussion? I'll buy you lunch if it’ll make you shut the fuck up.””

Harry laughs at Louis’s brutal honesty. Louis smiles at him and rubs his hand over his back, “When is Paul scheduled to come help us finish choreography?”

“Round about three, so we can have some time to relax before the show.”

“And what time is it now?”

Liam plucks his phone from his back pocket and hits the home button to pull up his lockscreen, not surprisingly the picture is one of him and Sophia on their most recent trip to Disney. “Quarter to one.”

"Hm, alright. I think Haz and I are going to excuse ourselves for a bit. We’ll regroup later.” Harry pulls away from Louis, creating a space in between the two of them. “As long as that’s alright with you?”

Harry nods, “Of course.”

“That settles it then, see you guys later, alright? Stay out of trouble.”

“I think that goes without saying.” Liam replies. “But it applies more to the two of you then us.”

Louis shrugs, “Hear that Haz? The dream team is back in action.” He wrapped an arm around Harry’s slender torso. He tugs Harry along to remind him to follow as he turns around. The two of them walk down the runway and across the raised platform before they return backstage. Louis leads Harry down the stairs and once they step onto level ground Louis turns to him, “Where do you want to go? Whatever you want to do, we’ll do.”

Harry shrugs at him, “Dunno.”

“Do you want to go eat lunch?”

Harry thinks about it for a moment, “Yeah.”

“You know California like the back of your hand, tell me, where’s a good place to catch a meal?”

Harry glances down at Louis, smiling, and allows a low hum to fall from his mouth, “There’s this place it’s....called...um...Neighborhood.”

“That’s a bit of a vague name isn’t it? Alright, fine by me, I’ll plug it into the GPS. Come on.”

One of the good things about touring in cities in and near California was one of their few houses being in Los Angeles. They were able to use their own vehicles and they had their own personal belongings at hand whenever they needed them. Sure, there was a bit of a drive depending on where they were stationed for each particular day, but the travel is always worth it to spend the night in their own room, in their own bed.

The drive to the restaurant is filled with comfortable silence. The radio amplifies the most popular hits through their car; Bad Blood, Can’t Feel My Face, and Want To Want Me all play in between ads on the radio station.

Louis and Harry intertwine their fingers together over the top of the center console. “I’m glad you and I can finally spend time out in public with each other.” Louis admits.

“Me too,” Harry gestures to a building on his side of the car. “Right here.”

It’s not a fancy nor a rundown restaurant. The sign above the entrance is white with black bold letters spelling out the word ‘Neighborhood’. The exterior is made up of multi-colored bricks, ranging from colors of deep beige to speckled red.

“Don’t tell me this is one of those hipster restaurants.”

Harry smiles at him without saying a word, slips his hand away from Louis’s grip, and opens the passenger door. He staggers out of the car and waits until Louis clambers out and joins him. “Let’s go.”

As soon as they walk into the fairly large restaurant, Louis realizes he was partially right. The interior is filled with wooden tables and faux leather bound chairs and booths. There’s a large black and white portrait of men that look like they’re from an older era, perhaps between the twenties and forties, holding up mugs of some sort of drink, whether it be beer or coffee that's undetermined.

There’s a bar at one end of the restaurant, behind the wooden countertop are countless bottles of drinks and a large chalkboard with the day’s specials listed in red and white chalk.

“We can seat ourselves.” Harry takes Louis’s hand in his and he leads him to a booth across the diner. Louis sits on the side closest to the entrance and Harry sits opposite him.

“This place is actually very nice. Is the food good?”

Harry replies, smugly, “Excellent.”

Louis smiles at him. Underneath the table, he wraps his legs around Harry’s calves. “This was a really nice choice darling. The decor is very interesting.”

“Shut up.” Harry whispers, softly, reaching across the table and taking Louis’s small hand in his much larger one, once again.

A young, redheaded waitress stumbles over, straightening her apron nervously as she stands near. She’s evidently anxious and there’s only one answer: she’s a One Direction fan. Harry and Louis try their hardest to appear anything, but intimidating or rude.

“Um, welcome to Neighborhood. My name is Stacey and I’ll be your server today,” she sets two menus down on the tabletop. “Here are your menus. Is there a drink I can start you off with?” She’s trying her hardest to keep her composure.

“I’ll have root beer, love, please.”

“Do you - I can make that a float for you?”

Louis glances towards Harry and shrugs, “Sounds alright.”

“And for you?”

“Water, please.”

Stacey nods, a bit too eagerly, “Right! Right, I’ll be back with those momentarily. Take as long as you’d like to look over the menu.” She disappears back behind the bar.

“Do you reckon she’s a fan?”

“Oh, I dunno.” Harry says, sarcastically. He fumbles with the menu as he tries to get a proper grasp on the paper pages. Louis eyes him discretely, not wanting to make him feel helpless. He halts in opening his own menu until Harry’s able to open the menu up.

He exhales with relief, glancing over his own menu, “Hm? Cheese fries sound brilliant. But what’s garlic aioli?”

“Kind of...it’s like... like...mayonnaise with garlic.”

“Gross. Why would I eat cheese fries with mayonnaise or egg for that matter? I wonder if I can get it without.”

“Yeah.”

“What are you going to get?”

“Salad.”

“Why did I even bother asking? I knew the answer. Silly boy, why don’t you enjoy yourself every once and a while. You’re fit, a little bit of grease isn’t going to make you implode. At least I don’t think.”

Harry laughs, “But I like salad.”

“No one in their right mind likes salad..”

“I’m a healthy eater.”

“You’re also strange.”

Stacey comes back over, carrying a frothy mug and a simple glass of water. She sets down each designated drink in front of it’s orderer. “Are you guys ready to order?”

“Yes,” Louis shuts his menu. “I’d like to get an order of cheese fries, but I’d like to hold off on the farm egg and garlic aioli.”

“Anything else?”

“No, babe, I’m set.”

Stacey finishes jotting down Louis’s order, “Okay and for you?”

Harry draws in a deep breath, preparing himself, so he can speak it clearly, “Neighborhood green salad. I’d like to...to, um -” He pauses and clears his throat. “Get grilled chicken on it.”

“What kind of dressing?”

“Cesar, please.”

“And is that all?”

“Yes.”

Stacey collects both of their menus, “I’ll bring it out as soon as I can.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” Stacey smiles and she disappears behind the bar for a second time.

Louis rests his chin in the palm of his hand as he watches Harry. Harry curiously glances around the bar, biting down on his lip, as his eyes hold interest of his surroundings.

_“He’s laying down now.” Louis said as he entered the kitchen. He took a seat across from Anne at the dining room table._

_Anne replied, tediously, adjusting her reading glasses on the bridge of her nose. "That's good."_   
  
_"Yeah. Yeah it is, " Louis paused as he watched Anne go through his bills. He didn't know how to write checks, though Harry did and seeing as though Harry was completely out of the loop, he had to have Anne help him out. Being that he was a businessman, he probably should have learned how to properly use the banking system then. "I wish his recovery would move along faster."_   
  
_"You and I both," She muttered. "But if this procedure is truly helping him then I do believe it was worth it. You know firsthand how bad his seizures can be." She pressed her thumb to her tongue before flicking through another stack of envelopes._   
  
_"Anne." Louis whispered._   
  
_"Yes dear?"_   
  
_"What gave you strength to take care of Harry all those years?"_   
  
_Anne sighed, sliding her glasses off of her nose, and folding them together as she set them on the table in front of her. "He's my son Louis. I didn't have a choice."_   
  
_"I know, I know, but there had to be times where you looked for another option, anything, to help you find it within yourself to continue onward."_   
  
_"I turned to God," She said. Louis was going to snicker, until he realized she was completely serious. He always seemed to forget that the Styles-Twists were so religious. "I sent him my prayers every night. I prayed that I'd be able to find the strength within myself to take care of Harry. I suppose my faith is what got me through the hard times. Mind you, most days were hard."_   
  
_Louis swallowed harshly. He couldn't exactly turn to God. He didn't know if there was even a God, but it wouldn't hurt him to try and ask the alleged big guy in the sky for guidance. He nodded at Anne._   
  
_"It's especially hard when you have another child who's incredibly healthy. You begin to compare the two of them, which is the wrong way to cope within itself. I always wondered what it would have been like had I not home schooled Harry or had I not had to coddle him. Gemma gave me the bit of sanity I needed. I could look at her and as awful as this may sound, I knew that she would accomplish great things with her life, it was just with Harry there was no way to know.”_

_“I bet you’re impressed now, aren’t you?”_

_“Incredibly so,” Anne said, in agreement. “I never expected to have an epileptic son. The thing was, before Harry had been diagnosed, the disorder was simply a disorder, just another word to me. I understood that there were many people who suffered from it and I also understood that it was a disorder in which seizures occurred, but it never mattered to me. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about it. I just hadn’t ever dealt with it, so why should it affect my life on a daily basis?”_

_“I understand,” Louis sighed. “Sometimes you hear the words seizure and epilepsy in passing, but they don’t impact you as much until you know someone who has it.”_

_“I do believe that goes for most things. Once you meet someone, or see something you can relate a particular word to the person or thing will always relate to the word, making the word more personable.”_

_“When did you become so wise?”_

_“It comes with age. You’ve got time yet.”_

_Louis smiled, “Do you ever wish Harry had turned out different? Personally, I think his epilepsy defines him even if life can be cruel to us at times.”_

_“I agree. He would completely different without the influence of epilepsy. Of course, there are plenty of times where I wish he didn’t have it. Like when it affects his performances and other duties or when I receive phone calls that he’s been hospitalized. It’s awful, yes, but we should appreciate it for what it is. It’s some sort of sign. If this is the only issue he has to deal with for the rest of his life, then we should be grateful that it had never transformed into something worse. I thank God everyday that it’s epilepsy rather than a brain tumor.”_

_“I never thought of it that way.”_

_“There’s multiple angles to look at it from. Your heart chooses how you view it. You’ve seen him at his best and at his worst, yet you’ve chosen to stay, that says a lot about a person.”_

_“You think so?”_

_“I know so.”_

_Louis swallowed harshly, “It’s so hard sometimes. I see him shaking, unconscious, and I don’t know if he’s going to wake up again. Sometimes I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to tell him I love him again Anne. It’s scary.”_

_“I understand exactly where you’re coming. He had a particularly bad fit in Year 10. I almost - I almost lost him. I was at work when the school had called me, told me that something happened, something bad enough that an ambulance had rushed Harry to the hospital. So, being his mother, I left work, went to the hospital. They hadn’t allowed me in to see him.”_

_“Why?”_

_“His physician told me he was experiencing something called Status epilepticus, which is something where seizures happen one after another with no regain of consciousness. He was having seizure after seizure for over half an hour. They told me I’d only get in their way.”_

_“What caused that?”_

_“I was told the cause was low antiepileptic drug levels. The doctors were close to putting him in a medically induced coma to stop the seizures, but they had finally gotten the seizures to stop with oxygen, IV fluids, and emergency medication. He was out of it for days. He didn’t know who I was, didn’t know he was, didn’t know where he was. It was awful. They had been worried about brain damage, but he was extremely lucky. I babied him for months after, bothered him about taking his medication until he got the point that he nearly died.”_

_“That - that’s possibly the worst story I’ve ever heard. You must have been so scared.”_

_“He was in the hospital for a week. Sometimes I have nightmares about that week.” Anne shook her head. “He nearly died. God.”_

_Louis sat silent, eyes watering, he could have never met the best part of his life._

“ _Louis_. Louis? Lou.”

The sound of someone calling his name pulls him away from his daydreaming. “Hm?” He flutters his eyelashes as he looks to Harry. “What is it love?”

“I want to...to - um start an orgy -” he flushes at the mispronunciation, covering his face in mortification.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Louis urges, fondly. “Try again.”

“Organization. I want to...start one.”

He leans forward in sudden interest, “You want to start an organization? And what kind of organization would that be?”

“For kids with epilepsy.”

“You want to start an organization for kids with epilepsy. That idea didn’t come out of nowhere. How long have you been conjuring that up?”

“I’ve been - well, for a while, I’ve been thinking about...it. Like, when I was...in hospital...in the hospital.”

“Seriously? What kind of ideas do you have? I’ve got all the time in the world.” He rests his hand on top of Harry’s and rubs soothing circles with his thumb.

“Like...for medical reasons and support. They - sometimes, don’t consider epilepsy...a - a disability.”

“I think I remember you speaking about the lack of aid you had growing up. Is that where this is coming from?”

“Yes. I want to...give money...to those in need. But I think supper…” A humorless laugh emits from his mouth. “Support would be nice.”

Louis brings Harry’s hand to his mouth and he presses his lips to his knuckles. “You’re brilliant. What can I do to help you?”

“The business stuff...you’re a smart business man.”

“I will help you with whatever you need once we get a chance to sit down and work out the details.”

“Thank you.”

Stacey comes over balancing a platter on her hand, “Here we go. I’ve got cheese fries.” She set down the plate in front of Louis. “And I’ve got a Neighborhood green salad with grilled chicken. Let me know if there’s anything else I can get for you. Enjoy.”

_“Don’t you look at me like that Harold.” Louis chastised, running a hand through his greasy hair. “All I’m doing is cutting up your food to make it easier for you to chew. I’m not force feeding you, but believe me I will if I must.”_

_He continued to use the plastic knife and fork in his hand to cut the chicken patty, he had successfully cooked, into small bite size pieces. It wasn’t that Harry couldn’t chew, it was the issue of if he spent too much time chewing he would give himself a headache. “There we go.” He set down both utensils on the table, beside the plate. “I mashed some potatoes. Would you like mashed potatoes?”_

_“No.”_

_“No? Come on, you have to eat a bit more than chicken, love,” he took hold of Harry’s chin in his hand. “I know your pills make you nauseous, but you still need to have a balanced diet. We both know green tea and jello isn’t going to cut it.”_

_Harry avoided meeting Louis’s eyes, instead he shrugged, pulling away from Louis’s touch._

_Louis bit down on his tongue in attempt to hold back from snapping at Harry. He retrieved the bowl in which he had last placed them and scooped a spoonful onto Harry’s plate._

_Without as little as a thank you, Louis felt tempted to blurt out, “You’re welcome.” To which Harry of course ignored._

_Harry avoided the potatoes as though it were the plague. He slowly, but surely, ate the bite-sized bits of chicken scattered across his desk, but didn’t once even graze the creamy white food._

_“Harry.” Louis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose._

_“Done.” Harry muttered, shoving the plate across the tabletop._

_Louis felt like an insulted parent. He was by no means Harry’s father, but as long as he took care of Harry he wanted respect. “Harry. I’m trying here, please, will you just eat a little more?”_

_“No.”_

_“Harry -”_

_“No.”_

_“Fine. Whatever.” Louis stood up and collected all the dirty dishes before tossing them in the kitchen sink. A load clatter filled the kitchen. One of the plates eve chipped.  “If you could appreciate what I’m doing just once. I would be -” Louis eyed Harry carefully before recognizing the nauseated look on Harry’s face. That could explain why he didn’t eat some of the chicken along with none of the mashed potatoes._

_Harry lurched forward, hand flying up to cover his mouth, vomit starting to slip through the crevasses of his fingers, but before he could even get a drop of sick on the tile, Louis had the waste basket in front of him. He retched for three minutes straight before he had come to a complete halt. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” Louis rubbed his clammy back as he stayed bent over the trashcan. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, kissing the top of Harry’s head._

_Harry swallowed harshly, “No. I’m...sorry.”_

_“Don't apologize. Are you alright? Do you want to go lay down?”_

_“Yeah.” Harry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand._

_“Let me get a rag to clean up your hand,” he disappeared to the hall closet. He returned moments later with a rag.Taking it to the sink, he wet it down before walking back to Harry. He wiped Harry’s chin first, Harry watched on in silence, and then Louis finished up by cleaning the residue off of his hand._

_“Okay, love. Let me get you something to drink before we go lay down. Tea?”_

_“Yes please.”_

Louis glances at the empty plate in front of him and subsequently at the empty plate in front of Harry, “How was it?”

“Wonderful,” He says, truthfully. “How were your...fries?”

“As a matter of fact, they were very good.”

He takes a peek at his phone and realizes they only have half an hour before they need to get back. He forces the next events to take place in a timely fashion. He pays for their meal, takes a picture with Stacey, and leads Harry out to the car in less than eight minutes.

Louis breaks a few road regulations, partially because he’s forgotten he’s in the states and partially because he doesn’t want to get a scolding from anyone when they get back to the stadium. When they arrive back to the stadium, he sees many more fans than he did earlier, therefore he needs to make a nonchalant entrance. He pulls his car into the secluded area where their tour buses are also parked.

The two of them are out of breath by the time they get back to the stage. Liam, Niall, and Zayn are all standing in a semicircle speaking to their choreographer, Paul Roberts.

“There they are! Told you they’d make it back in time.” Liam mutters, snidely, to Niall.

Louis and Harry walk to the end of the catwalk until they become part of the half circle. “You’ve made it just in time. We were just about to run over the choreography one last time, we can’t do that missing two members.” Paul says.

“Are we running the show start to finish?”

Nudging his side, Zayn asks, “Did you expect anything less Tommo?”

“Of course not,” He glances to Harry. “All right?”

“Yes.”

The setlist starts off as it always has, Clouds is the opener, after is Steal My Girl, followed by Little Black Dress, and so on, so forth. The only differences in the North American leg of the tour is the replacement of Strong, now being replaced by Spaces, though they were told if Spaces didn’t receive a good enough audience reaction it would be replaced by Fireproof. Also, Act My Age was added.

The choreography feels a bit bland, Louis is more than willing to admit, without Harry dancing around like a fool and running into everyone, he’s too clumsy for his own good.

Harry is sitting down for three quarters of the show, only standing up and moving around for Clouds, Through The Dark, What Makes You Beautiful, they apparently have to keep the formation for Harry’s solo because it’s iconic or something, 18, You & I, and Best Song Ever as well as the time set aside for his turns to speak to the crowd.

By the time they’re finished with Best Song Ever, the show’s closer, a wave of exhaustion has crossed all of them and they decide to take the next few hours to relax. The show starts at 7, but Icona Pop owns the stage for nearly forty five minutes, and then there’s a half an hour change over, the show realistically doesn’t start until about 8:30.

Now, given that it’s ten to five, they’re left with an hour to an hour and a half of down time before they’ll be forced by Caroline and Lou to begin getting ready for tonight’s show.

That’s enough time to snuggle backstage, which ironically is exactly what Louis and Harry decide to use their time for. Louis lays with his arms wrapped around Harry’s larger body and his chin resting in the crook of Harry’s neck. His hands rest flat on Harry’s stomach. “I love you more than anything and anyone in this whole entire world you know that right?”

Harry turns his head, scrunching his nose up when Louis’s hair brushes against his face, “Of course. I love you too.” His eyebrows are drawn together in confusion.

“I’m only telling you that because I know tonight’s going to be rough for you and even if you make a few mistakes, I’ll still love you. Everyone understands that you’re going to be a bit rusty, so don’t take any comments too hard, please?”

Harry watches Louis’s lips form around the words his benevolent voice speaks. He swallows harshly, “Of course.”

“And I also want you to know that at the first sign of trouble, the first sign of nausea, headaches, dizziness, anything you come and get me. It doesn’t matter where we’re at with the concert. You and your health always come first.”

Harry presses his lips to the tip of Louis’s nose, without speaking another word, and he shifts his hands until he’s holding both of Louis’s in his own.

Bruce is curled up in the corner of the green room, snoring softly as he sleeps.

“Lou?” Harry breathes.

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“For what exactly?”

“Everything,” Harry whispers, squeezing Louis’s hands. “For...taking care of...me.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Louis murmurs, lips pressing to Harry’s sharp jawline. “You’re my one and only Haz, I will always take care of you babe.”

Those words have him swallowing harshly, they sound a lot like something his mum would say, and that doesn’t settle nicely with him. There are far too many memories.

_Harry really hadn’t felt well. He wanted to tell his mum, but she looked happy for the first time in a long time and he didn’t want to ruin that by complaining. Everything had started to come together. He was finally getting the opportunity to begin school, be it he missed primary school, and now had to begin in secondary school, but that hardly bothered him. It was a fresh start. Also, his mum had recently been employed to work in an office, which yet again was a major step for the family._

_“Please take care of your brother, Gemma. I know you’re not his babysitter, but help him get adjusted as best as you can, please. All I’m asking is that you get him to class in one piece.” Anne squeezed her 14 year old daughter's shoulders._

_Gemma met her mum’s eyes, “Of course. I’ll take care of him. Shall I drop by the nurse's office as well?”_

_“If you would, but only to make sure his medical records were faxed correctly.”_

_Harry was entering Year 7 and the 11 year old was losing more sleep than necessary over it. He was nervous about school, even though the constant reassurance Gemma had offered was always positively inclined. ‘School’s fun!’ she would say. ‘You’ll make so many friends!’ she reminded him._

_Gemma was entering Year 10. The two of them would be in the same comprehensive building, Holmes Chapel Comprehensive School, but Gemma would be coming into her first period late, school approved of course, only so she could show her brother the way around school._

_Harry held on tightly to the shoulder straps of his backpack, watching the interaction between his sister and his mum. “Gemmy, can we go to school yet?”_

_Gemma smiled at her brother, “He’s growing rather impatient, mum, we better go before we miss the bus.”_

_Tears quickly sprung in Anne’s eyes and she tried her hardest to not let them leak, “Of course. I just - I’m so proud of the two of you.” Anne whispered and pulled Gemma into a tight embrace, “I love you, my iced Gem.”_

_“I love you too. Gosh, mum, I can’t breathe!” Gemma laughed._

_Anne allowed her to pull away and subsequently she moved to Harry. She wrapped her arms around him, “I love you, poppet, be safe and have a great day. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”_

_“Alright, alright! Come on Hazza! We have to go!” Gemma clapped her hands together._

_Anne kissed the top of his head and ruffled his hair, “Go on, kiddo.” She stood up straight and allowed herself to self-destruct once her kids walked out the front door. She was a mess, crying into her hands, her pride had overwhelmed her._

_As soon as they stepped foot onto the bus, it was like Harry was mesmerized, he had been on a bus before, but this time was different. There were a few other school aged children on board, but other seats were occupied by adults. This was his first real journey to school._

_He kept trying to tell himself that the queasy feeling in the pit of his belly was nerves._

_They arrived in front of the foreign building and Gemma made him wait until the other students had gotten off before they too walked off the bus._

_Not before Harry had practically squealed, “Thank you! Have a beautiful day!” to the bus driver._

_The man smiled at him and nodded, “You too kid.”_

_“You’re too cute.” Gemma whispered to her brother, wrapping an arm around her brother’s shoulders as she led him to the entrance of the school._

_The main office was to their left. Gemma led Harry into the secretaries’ homeland with ease._

_“Ah, Gemma Styles, one of Holmes Chapel’s finest, what can I do for you?”_

_“I’m flattered by your greeting,” Gemma smiled. “Mrs. Phelps, this is my little brother Harry. He’s starting school today, Year 7. I was wondering if you had any idea whether his medical files transferred over correctly or will I have to speak with the nurse?”_

_“I should be able to help you out,” The secretary rapidly typed the information Gemma had told her into the computer. She read over something on her screen and a frown deepened her expression._

_“Did the files not get faxed over?”_

_“No they did.”_

_“Then what’s wrong?”_

_“Epilepsy? Truly? How serious is it?”_

_“With all due respect, any question you want answered can be answered by reading that file. I’d rather not discuss my brothers disorder right now. Thank you. That’s all the information I needed to know. Come on Haz.”_

_Harry followed Gemma out into the hallway, “Why was that lady -”_

_“Mrs. Phelps.”_

_“Why was Mrs. Phelps so upset? Mummy says epilepsy makes me special.”_

_“Yeah, yeah. It makes you special, some people don’t like when other people are special, they’re jealous. Let’s go to your first class.” Gemma started to walk as she read over Harry’s class schedule:  TIME: 8:30 - 9:20. MONDAY: Geography. TEACHER: Mr. Etheridge._

_She told him that was awful first period. He didn’t know what that meant._

_She halted in her tracks when she realized her little brother wasn’t right behind her anymore, “Harry? What are you doing? Come on.”_

_“Why is she jealous? Mummy says -”_

_“Harry please,” Gemma snapped. “Just follow me and for the love of god, quit saying mummy, unless you want to get beat up.”_

_“Fine.” Harry rolled his eyes, even though he didn’t know what beat up meant. He had heard the movies on the telly mention it every once and a while, but he wasn’t sure what it meant._

_Being home schooled left him out of the loop and almost disgustingly innocent.._

_He caught up to Gemma and followed her down the hallway to his first hour. The warning bell hadn’t even rung yet, indicating they still had five minutes until class would begin._

_“I’m going to go inside and talk to your teacher. I’ll be back in a few moments. Stay right out here, okay? Don’t get in any trouble.” She stepped inside the classroom and Harry could barely make out her saying something along the lines of, “...my brother...don’t know...you know...epilepsy.”_

_His lips pursed together as he stood outside the classroom. A boy, who looked to be a bit older than himself, instantaneously appeared beside him. “Who’s the girl with you?_

_Harry peered up, slightly startled. He didn’t know who this kid was. He was half a foot taller than him and he had eyes greyer than a storm cloud. He was more attractive than any girl he had ever seen. In that moment he knew that was an abnormal thought. The world made it seem like boys were supposed to date only girls and girls were supposed to date only boys, why was it he wanted to date a boy?_

_“What?”_

_“The fit girl that was with you a moment ago. Who was she?”_

_“My sister…” Harry replied, confused._

_“Yeah? What’s her name?”_

_Harry’s eyebrows furrowed together, “Gemma.”_

_“How old is she?”_

_****Harry was taken back. He didn’t understand why all those questions mattered to that boy. ”She’s 14. Why?” He said, knowing his mum would hate for him to be rude._

_“Really? She looks way too hot for 14,” the kid bit down on his lip. “You’re still a little kid. I don’t expect you to understand.”_

_“I’m eleven.” Harry corrected._

_“Right...so is she coming back out of the classroom anytime soon?” The unnamed boy pressed._

_“I don’t know, she went in to -”_

_“That’s interesting,” The blonde cut him off glanced across the hall at a few boys. He nodded slyly at them, smirk spanned across his face, and he had the nerve to wink. “So, she should be out in a few minutes, yeah? I can wait.”_

_Still, Harry remained clueless._

_One of the members of the boy’s posse walked over to him, greeting him with some strange handshake, before they both turned to Harry. His friend snickered, “Who’s the git?”_

_Harry didn’t hear the original boy reply. Instead, he was focused on the odd tingling feeling attacking his entire body and the scent of gasoline that rushed to fill his nostrils. He knew that these signs were not good, at all._

_“My sister.” Harry mumbled, hand raising to hold his forehead. “Gemma!” He called out._

_“What the fuck did you do to him bro?” The friend asked, panicked._

_His fingers began to twitch, both the ones sprawled across his forehead, and the ones that were once laxly resting at his side._

_He could make out the outline of his sister as she dashed out of the classroom. His vision was darkening in the corners and then promptly he couldn’t see anything at all._

_The last thing he had sensed before completely blacking out was his sister's frightened voice screaming, “Get away from my brother!”_

_His first day of school really hadn’t gone as planned._

Both Louis and Harry fall asleep on the couch, the couch that’s hardly big enough for one person to lay on, let alone two grown men.

It isn’t until an hour later that they’re being pulled out of their deep sleep.

“Louis! Harry!” A shrill voice calls, right outside the door. This sends Bruce bolting upright, dashing over to the door, and growling at whoever lies behind the wooden barricade.

“Bruuuuce.” Louis moans, annoyed. Both Bruce and the shrill voice outside the door become louder.

The disembodied voice knocks on the door before jerking it open. “There you are. It’s time to get up and prepare for your show, sleepyheads. Up! Get up!”

Caroline steps closer to the couch, smiling at the two intertwined boys, but she shakes her head, reminding herself that she has the responsibility of getting the two of them to wake up. “Louis, Harry, come on now.”

Louis picks his head up as Harry begins to stir awake. He pretends not to notice the damp spot on Harry’s back, also known as the mass amount of drool that seeped out of his mouth and onto his lover’s white t-shirt while he was in a deep sleep.

“What’s up?” Louis yawns.

“Lou wanted to get the two of you into hair and makeup. Then I need the two of you darlings in wardrobe.”

“Alright, let me wake Harry, and we’ll head wherever you need us.”

Caroline brightly smiles and nods before making a swift exit, “Great, thank you lovely.”

Louis’s fingers graze over Harry’s cheek as the half-asleep man continues to shift. “Harry, you’ve got to wake up,” He whispers. “We’ve got a show.”

Harry turns his face away from Louis’s touch and he grumbles something, most likely something crude, underneath his breath. This leaves Louis with only one choice. He wriggles out from behind Harry and straddles the younger boy’s body. “Harold, you have to get up. You can sleep all you want tonight, after the show.”

“Tired.” Harry complains, as though Louis will just let him slide by and skip the concert with that single complaint..

If it were up to Louis, Harry would be sliding by and skipping tonight’s show. In fact, he would be skipping performing all together until the following year had it been up to Louis.

“I know you’re tired, babe,” Louis kisses Harry’s forehead. “But we have a show to perform and thousands of fans to impress.”

Harry opens his eyes and they’re a bit more vibrant than they’ve been in the past. “Okay.”

Louis places one ground on the carpeted ground. He swings his other leg over Harry until he’s standing steady beside the couch. He offers Harry a hand, to help him sit up, but Harry shakes his head in response.

“Where to?” He asks, once he’s completely standing.

“Hair -” Louis pauses, hoping that he didn’t come across as rude or insensitive. That is what it’s truly called, he isn’t purposely being rude. Maybe he should have only said makeup.  “and makeup.”

Harry doesn’t seem to even notice Louis’s uncertainty, “How fun.” He mumbles, dully.

Louis stifles a laugh, “That’s exactly how I feel about it. We might as well head down that way. I’d hate to get on Lou’s badside.”

Harry eyes him up and down, bellowing a laugh, “You’ve never...cared before.”

“I don’t. Sarcasm at it’s finest love. Come along.”

The dressing room’s were always separate from green rooms, technical rooms, and the kitchen. Lou mundanely set up her studio in her own room, almost always in between Louis & Harry’s dressing room and Niall’s dressing room.

“I can’t believe Lottie’s taking over once Lux starts school.” Louis says to Harry as they walk down the hallway. “My little sister’s growing up too fast.”

Harry quirks his lips up into smile. Often, he wondered what life would have been like had he not been the youngest, but he realizes that it was better that he was the youngest. There was hardly ever a moment where he didn’t have his mum’s attention, a baby needs the attention he always had. Perhaps. that’s why his mum never tried for another baby, she was still in her twenties when she had had him.

Louis holds the door open for Harry and follows suit, shutting the door behind him. Lux was, keyword being was, sitting in a director like chair when they walked in, but now she has launched herself at them, wrapping her arms around Harry’s leg. She comes to just above his knee.

Harry presses his hand to her scalp and brushes his fingers through her blonde hair, “Lux, baby, there's my favorite little movie star! How is my favorite 3 year old doing today?”

“Uncle Harry!” She squeals, hugging his leg tighter. “I had ice cream!”

“You did?” Harry gasps. “No way.”

“It was chocolate!”

“With sprinkles?”

“With sprinkles!”

Louis laughs to himself as he watches Lux and Harry interact. He can’t wait until they have children of their own.

“Enough chit-chat,” Lou calls over to them. “I need to do your makeup Harry, come here.”

Harry huffs a annoyed breath out and settles into the chair Lou’s standing in front of. Louis smiles at him before he resides on the couch. Lux comes trotting over to him and she climbs on his lap. She presses a sloppy kiss to his nose, “Hi Uncle Lou.”

“Hi little one,” Louis whispers and he wraps an arm around small body, he pulls her closer to his chest. “How are you?”

“I’m tired.”

“Yeah? Go to sleep then, kiddo.”

Lux falls asleep against his chest, but he’s forced to move her minutes later, after Lou finishes up with Harry’s makeup and tells him she’s ready for him. He can’t help but feel as though he’s a child again and following his mum’s every instruction.

Harry doesn’t appear different at all, Lou makes sure to make it look as natural as possible, only using foundation and on occasion a bit of mascara. She says she doesn’t want them to look like girls, which is bullshit, and one of Lou’s flaws.

Every time Louis glances remotely in Harry direction, the lanky lad turns his head away from awkwardly and scratches the back of his neck, as if to prove he isn’t gawking at Louis, though he most definitely is. Louis chooses not to tease him about it, instead he grins to himself, and collectively thinks about fortunate he is to have Harry.

Lou runs her gel covered hands through Louis’s soft, feathered hair one last time before sending him on his way, “Caroline wanted to see you in your dressing room,” She tells the both of them. “If I don’t see you before the show, I just wanted to say good luck and I know you’ll do amazing.”

“Thank you.”

The tasks they have to fulfill before the show feel more like chores rather than a relaxation period. They walk the short distance next door, to their personal room, and once inside Caroline quite figuratively pounces on them.

“You both look absolutely stellar, wait until you see what I ordered for you,” She disappears into a closet. The two boys share a confused glance, but it doesn’t last long as Caroline appears, holding two separate clothing tops in both of her hands. In one hand is a button up shirt with a splash of every prominent color of the rainbow displaying itself in multiple different shapes and patterns designed by Marc Jacobs. It’s a loud shirt. Something that screams Harry. In her other hand is a Topman t-shirt, an image of a skeleton smoking is broadcasted across the white jersey material of the shirt, black bolded words are sprawled over top of it, Live Fast it reads.

“That’s sick!” Louis exclaims, taking the t-shirt from Caroline, and analyzes every aspect the top. He notices in the right corner there’s text displayed, C’N’C EST.04. “Wicked. This will look great with my black skinnies.”

Harry is much more reserved about taking the t-shirt. He thanks Caroline at least ten times before she finally tells him to stop it and forces the both of them to get changed. She winks at them, “I’ll give you some alone time.”

Both of them come out dressed no more than ten minutes later. Louis, dressed in his brand new t-shirt, black skinny jeans, and black vans, looks rugged as always. Harry steps out, almost nervously, he hasn’t worn one of his blouses in what seems like ages, but nevertheless here he is, patterned shirt and all. He has his best pair of black jeans on. Instead of heeled boots he wears a pair of tennis shoes, or rather a pair of Louis’s tennis shoes, that happen to be a size too small for him.

“I think that,” Louis swivels around momentarily, his back to Harry, when he turns back around he’s baring a sapphire blue beanie. “This beanie would look incredible on you.” He wanders forward and stands on his tiptoes, he’s almost eye level with Harry, but it will have to work. Considerately, he pulls the beanie onto Harry’s head, adjusting it until he’s fully pleased. “There we are. Dashing, as always.”

Harry blushes, “You look...gorgeous.” He cradles Louis’s cheek in his hand. His eyes catch the crystals staring at him expectantly and he can’t help but laugh. He wants exactly what Louis wants.

He’s gentle when he kisses Louis, their lips only graze each other at first, as though they’re foreign to each other, as though this is their first kiss, thus making it magical. Seconds later the atmosphere immensely changes. Harry isn’t the awkward, strange Harry that the fans see nor is he the dickhead the media used to see and portray him as, in this moment, he’s purely Harry. He’s Louis’s Harry.

Harry’s hand diverges from Louis’s cheek. He tangles his long fingers in the long brunette strands of his his hair and tugs, coercing an enthusiastic moan from Louis. He steps closer, his body unorthodoxly knocking into Louis’s body, Louis seems to hardly mind. Their groins brush against each other, the sensitivity of their genitalia sends shivers up their spines.

They don’t stop until they’re being interrupted by Zayn’s uneasy clearing throat notion. They hadn’t even heard him open the door and enter. Now, he stands unwelcomed in the doorway.

“What?” Louis pants. His blown pupils are caught on Harry’s damned pouty lips.

“The boys and I were wondering if you wanted to join us for a quick bite before we headed on stage...unless, of course, you have other plans.”

“What time is it?”

“Nearly seven thirty.”

“We’ll be right there.”

Zayn avoids eye contact, backing out of the room quickly, “Uh yeah...okay.”

Harry raises an eyebrow at Louis.

“Zayn has got to be the most unreadable person I know,” Louis admits. “Was he uncomfortable? Was he turned on? I don’t know.”

Harry laughs. “Let’s go.”

Their quick bite turns into an unhealthy three course meal. After consuming a plethora of chips, chocolate, and pizza they were mistakable for someone on their period.

All five of them are sitting around, bringing up past memories and telling jokes, when someone from their personnel team tells them to prepare to get on stage.

The nerves set in immediately after that point, for everyone.

Once they’re behind the stage, mic packs, earpieces, and microphones are handed to each of the boys. The green microphone goes to Harry, blue goes to Louis, yellow goes to Zayn, red goes to Liam, and the one colored to resemble the Irish flag goes to Niall.

They’re on stage fifteen minutes later, after their group huddle and pep talk. Harry is taken back at first. He never realized how loud and bright it truly was on stage until all his senses had been amplified. Louis loops an arm around his waist, he can barely make out his whisper, “Not as scary as it looks, remember?”

Harry draws in a shaky breath, joining in for the chorus of Clouds. After the set opener ends, he finds a seat on the platform, listening as Liam gets a feel for the crowd and thanks them for sticking with them after all the events that had consecutively taken place in the past months. He subsequently passes his speech off to Louis,

As soon as Louis opens his mouth he gets a remarkable amount of appraisal from the audience. His eyes widen in surprise and he glimpses over his shoulder at Harry. They share a smile. They hadn’t expected for the fans to be quite as understanding and willing to stick around.

“A massive thank you goes out to you guys for continuing to listen to our music and keeping our names mentioned on social media,” Louis addresses the crowd. “As you know, the past few months have been rough for us as a band, even rougher for Harry and I,” Screaming in the crowd gets louder and Louis swears he can hear ‘Larry’ being chanted. “By now you all know of Harry’s procedure. You also know that we are in fact together. The truth of the matter is we hadn’t expected such a positive reaction to either of those things. You truly are the best fans in the world. Thank you. I have a feeling tonight is going to be one hell of a ride, hopefully you will enjoy this as much as we will.”

“Buckle up.” Niall quips into his mic.

The concert goes well, by the time they’re more than halfway through, the band can honestly say this concert has been one of the most emotion provoking and important. Their fans mean everything to them.

They’re exhausted by the time song nineteen, Through The Dark, finally comes around. There’s only a few songs left and they’re positive that they can make it through the exhaustion, it comes with the first show of all their tours, they shouldn’t be surprised.

Liam’s starts off Through The Dark, coming in strong on the intro of the song, holding the microphone stand as tightly as he sways to the music their marvelous band makes.

Harry walks towards his mic stand, wraps his hand around the pole, and catches Louis’s eyes as he does the same. His eyes sparkle with mischief and he walks in the other direction, to stand between Niall and Zayn.

Harry smiles and he walks, dragging the microphone behind him just as Liam sings, “You tell me that you're hurt and you're in pain...Sing it!” The next thing he registers is the mic stand getting caught on wires on stage and suddenly he’s tripping over his feet and falling onto the ground, hard.

A thump echoes throughout the stadium and there’s a brief silence that takes over the concert, though it’s not completely silent. One Direction concerts are never completely silent.

Louis whips his head around. His heart slams down into his stomach. He thinks Harry’s having a seizure, at their first comeback tour, what are the odds? “Oh my god.” He whispers.

It isn’t until he sees Harry shifting to lay on his back that he realizes that Harry isn’t having an episode. He’s thankful, but another thought irks him. He doesn’t know whether Harry’s hit his head or not. The underlying thought is enough for him to go to him. He drops down to his knees and his hand hovers over Harry, “Are you hurt?” He asks.

“No...think I’m okay.”

“You think? Or you know? Sweetheart, I need to look at your head, okay? I’m just going to pull the beanie off and take a look. I’ll put it right back when I’m done.” He slides the beanie off of Harry’s head and as tenderly as he can, he brushes his fingers all along Harry’s scalp. “Does anywhere I touch hurt?”

“No.”

“Okay,” Louis says. They’re practically yelling at each other, unable to hear if they speaker any quieter. He forces Harry to tilt his head, analyzing the incision sight. “I’m going to touch your scar, okay? I don’t know if you’re bleeding or not.” He glides his fingers over the long, conspicuous mark. Harry gasps and withers under Louis’s touch, he’s not completely healed yet. It’s still sore.

“Sorry.” Louis studies his fingers, twisting them under the lights until he can see them clearly. “You’re not bleeding. Can you sit up?”

Harry nods, shying away from Louis, and pushes himself up with the palms of his hands.

They hadn’t even noticed the song finished. Liam calls into the microphone, staring at the two of them, “I think he’s okay. Are you okay? Harry?”

“Uh - physically...I’m fine. Emotionally...I’m bruised.

“Okay. Okay, as long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters.”

“I know exactly how that feels.” Niall adds in.

Liam nods, “I know how it feels as well.”

Louis helps Harry pull the beanie back on. He stands up and grabs Harry’s hand as he helps him stand up.

After that little mishap, the rest of the concert goes by smoothly. Best Song Ever begins to fade out as they finish their last lap saying goodbye to all of the fans.

“Thank you! We’ve been One Direction! Drive home safe!” Liam shouts. The five of them all scurry backstage and instantly they share a group hug.

“That was amazing. We were amazing.” Niall says.

“You did great Harry.”

“Wow! I forgot how incredible it felt!”

“I’m so proud of you Haz.” Louis whispers, squeezing him extra tight. “So proud.”

“Let’s head to the hotel, eh boys? Give Louis and Harry some time alone.”

“Agreed.”

“Let’s go.”

That night, when he’s lying beside Harry, Louis looks up to the ceiling and smiles, “Maybe you’re not so bad.” He whispers. He glances at Harry and presses one last kiss to his forehead before he snuggles against him and falls asleep.

Harry, never truly having been asleep, smiles at the ceiling. “Thank you."

 

 

 

_I believe in God, but not as one thing, not as an old man in the sky. I believe that what people call God is something in all of us. I believe that what Jesus and Mohammed and Buddha and all the rest said was right. It's just that the translations have gone wrong. - John Lennon_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFnIBBVWbMw


	14. Chapter 14

Louis sings quietly to himself, clicking his pen against his thigh, “ _And whenever you fall at my feet…_ ” He trails off, looks up from his notebook, gives Liam a glance, then, proceeds to make a frustrated noise. “I can’t think of any more lyrics for the chorus.”

“You can’t give it up now.”

“Yes I can.” Louis argues, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “Fuck, why is this so hard?”

Liam doesn’t say another word at first. He takes a deep breath, fighting the urge to make a sarcastic comment in reply to Louis’s frustration, and reaches across Louis to guide the notebook out of potential harm's way. He reads the open page over, “Look, you’ve already gotten the first verse down and it’s lyrically ingenious. I think it’s brilliant,” Liam admits. “‘ _I’m really close tonight and I feel like I’m moving inside him?_ ’ Bloody amazing. ‘ _Lying in the dark, I think that I’m beginning to know him?_ ’ Ace. These are a great foundation. Just give it a bit more thought.” He hands Louis’ notebook back to him.

Louis listens to him, truly taking what he has to say into consideration. Liam wouldn’t bullshit him. If he didn’t like the song, he would say so. After all, their friendship is built mostly on truth.

He sings, “ _And whenever you fall at my feet…_ ” over and over, peering around the room, desperate for some sort of fire to ignite his inspiration. It’s once he looks into the ominous darkness outside Liam’s study window and he hears the rain pattering against the roof that he finds exactly the thought he needed. Perhaps he can incorporate rain or weather into the chorus somehow, someway.

He starts scribbling down lyric after lyric on the lined paper in front of him, crossing them off when he finds displeasure in them. He does this for nearly five minutes with Liam watching his every action with curiosity. Once he’s completely satisfied, he sets the pen down, and sits up confidently.

Liam gestures for him to sing it, “Let’s hear it then.”

“Calm down. Keep your excitement to a minimum,” Louis smirks. “Alright here we go,” He starts off a bit shaky, but once he discovers a proper rhythm, it flows well. “ _And whenever you fall at my feet, won’t you let your tears rain down on me? Whenever I touch your slow burning pain_.” Louis doesn’t say anything after finishing the chorus. He waits for Liam’s criticisms, impatiently, glowering at the younger man for a response.

“You want my honest opinion?”

“No, I want you to lie to me,” Louis quips. “Of course I want your fucking honest opinion.”

Liam raises his hands in mock surrender, “Hey, be nice,” He warns. He lowers his hands to rest on his lap, “In my honest opinion, I think that Harry’s going to love it. Your voice is best for ballads, so it genuinely draws in that emotional factor. The lyrics will mean a lot to him.”

“I hope so.”

“And he has no idea that you’re writing a song to serenade him with?”

“No, he’s completely clueless. I hope the song means something to him. I tried my best to incorporate epilepsy. You can tell right?”

“Well, falling at someones feet doesn’t necessarily strike me as positively inclined. Even if you weren’t alluding to epilepsy, falling at someone’s feet is a negative image, to me at least.”

“That’s exactly what I was aiming for.”

Liam admits, “I jotted down a few lyrics. I know you wanted this to be an independent project, but just take a look at them. If you don’t want to use them, maybe I can write another song based around them for a different album.”

“Quit rambling and let me hear what you’ve got, yeah?”

Rather than singing, Liam reads the words he wrote minutes earlier off of a scrap piece of paper, “ _The finger of blame has turned upon itself and I’m more than willing to offer myself._ ”

Louis slowly nods his head. He likes that, in fact, he likes that a lot, “That would make for a lovely intro for the bridge.”

“You like it then?”

“I like it a lot.” Louis replies. The two of them fall silent until Louis speaks moments later, “ _Do you want my presence or need my help?_ ”

“Pardon?” Liam asks, confused.

“ _Do you want my presence or need my help?_ That’s it! That’s the next lyric.”

Liam smiles, “I think you finally have it, Tommo. A few more lyrics and touch-ups and you’ll have yourself a brilliant love anthem.”

“I just want this to be memorable for him. Our first show of the UK leg, a special song for him. I want this to mean the world to him.”

“It's nice to have it happen in London, since you’ll be closer to home.”

Louis shrugs at him, “I don’t think location matters as much as purpose. It just so happens to work this way." Instantaneously, he’s letting out an obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching his arms above his head. “Bloody hell, what time is it? I’m absolutely knackered.”

“Uh -” Liam clicks the home button on his IPhone. “Half past three.”

“In the morning? Shit, where did the time go?” Louis rubs his bleary eyes with his knuckles. “Might as well head to bed.”

“You’re not going to give Harry a ring?”

“He’s probably asleep. I don’t want to wake him. You know how he is about his sleep.”

“Soph is the exact same way. She’s an early bird, never goes to sleep past midnight, that is, unless we’re clubbing.”

Louis admits, “I didn’t expect anything less.”

It’s nice to have time to relax. Liam invited Louis, specifically, to come spend a week, “or longer, stay however long you want Lou, no rush”, at his mansion is Wolverhampton. They’re on break in between their US leg and UK leg. He claimed that he wanted Louis to have a break from his stressful obligations.

Louis had been hesitant at first, after all, Harry is still traveling down the road to recovery. Four months after surgery, as it is finally nearing the end of October, and he’s still working himself back up to the normal, old Harry. Though Louis has been told time and time again that Harry will most likely never be exactly the same as he had been before the operation and he should not anticipate a 100% recovery, he holds Harry up to a completely different standard.

Once Sophia became involved with convincing him to come spend time with the both of them it was over as soon as it had started. She sweet talked him into it. The girl is talented at persuasion and manipulation. “Forget fashion design Smith! You should be a damn lawyer.” He had said, after admitting defeat.

Harry had taken well to Louis telling him he was going on a trip with Liam, in spite of the fact that the trip actually equaled a stay in Liam’s five million pound mansion, which was information he would tell Harry all about once he saw him again.

Considering Louis was far too lazy to call his sister-in-law, he didn’t want to be stuck on the phone with her as she does talk a lot, Sophia was the one who had called Gemma, being a close friend of hers, and asked her to stay with Harry while Louis was away. Gemma, being the loving sister she is, agreed to having a “sibling’s week” with Harry. After all, she could work her column for The Debrief on her laptop, thus all was fine by her.

Louis had never been to Liam’s place before this week, once he arrived he was thoroughly impressed. The first thing he had noticed was the outstanding security the mansion had.

 _Something Harry and I should look into_ , he had immediately thought.

Liam’s house is complete with a large heated pool, which he reassures Louis they can use, even though it’s the middle of fall. Louis calls bullshit, automatically assuming Liam is pranking him.

The house is three stories and Liam spent practically half the day showing Louis around. It’s complete with many balconies, a tennis court, a cinema, a ballet studio, and anything else a wealthy man could ever possibly want, not to mention need.

"You can find the way to your room, right? I'm going to clean up the study up a bit before I head to bed. I'll see you in the morning. Soph was talking about making omelettes, make sure you’re up before noon this time if you want some."

“You’ve gotten yourself quite a girl Liam,” Louis comments. “I’ve been staying here for three days, I’m sure I’ll be able to find my way to the guest room.” He stands up from the couch and bids Liam one final goodbye before curtly exiting the room. “Okay, so, down the hall and to the...right, right?” he mutters to himself in a confused daze. He doesn’t know how it’s possibly three am, last time he checked the clock it had only been eleven thirty.

He walks down the mediocrely illuminated hallway, side-eyeing a few framed photos, all consisting of either family, Sophia, or the boys. The bedroom he’s staying in has a white door, which he is relieved to see at the very end of the hallway. He strides to the door, thrusts it open, and subsequently slides inside the huge bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

The bedroom is enormous. The king-sized bed stands high off of the ground, four large pillars, one at each corner of the bed, hold the mattress up. A nightstand sits on either side of the bed. There’s a desk at the opposing end of the suite, a dark blue suede chair is nearby, and an Mac laptop lies on top of the desk. The rest of the room is filled with color coordinated decor. Everything is in shades of blue, ranging from sky blues to sapphire blues.

He flicks the light on and exhales a sigh, “Pajama bottoms.” He mutters to himself, gazing around the room quizzically, “Ah,” He whispers, pointing out the black bottoms to himself once he recognizes them, strewn across the back of the suede chair,

They’re his favorite pair, the inside is a soft cotton material, a Belgian flag is printed on the left hip, Harry had bought them at a corner store in Belgium over a year ago. There had been a t-shirt that came with them, a large Belgian flag printed on the front as well, but Louis had, not so surprisingly, misplaced it.

He pulls his skinnies off, standing only in his dark blue underpants in the middle of the bedroom. The reason he’s dressed in normal clothes is because Liam insisted on treating him to dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant with a dress code. The last few days he’s been wearing pajamas and sweats around the mansion.

He snatches the pajama bottoms off of the back of the chair and gives them a once over, brushing his fingers against the fabric. A fond smile grows on his own face as he thinks about the enthusiasm and thought that Harry had put into buying him the pajama set. It was a sweet gesture.

Though, it wasn’t an uncommon gesture. Harry buys him souvenirs from every city they visit, even if they’ve visited multiple times. They vary in size and value, sometimes he buys things as little as keychains with engravings on them or things as big as comforter sets. With that in mind, they probably own more comforter sets and blankets than anyone else in the world.

Louis smiles and shimmies his bottoms up his legs and past his hips and bum. He tugs his shirt off and tosses it off to the side, he’ll _most likely_ clean up the mess he’s made before he leaves at the end of the week.

After flipping the light back off,  he lays down in bed, underneath the covers, and grabs his cell phone from the nightstand. He flicks through his immediate notifications. There’s nothing too particularly interesting, aside for a sweetly written goodnight text from none other than his Harry.

_Goodnight Lou! I hope you’re having a great time with Liam and Sophia, you truly do deserve some fun for change. I can’t wait to hear about it when you come home. I miss you terribly. I love Gemma, but my sister, obviously, is no comparison to you. Anyways, goodnight babe. I love you lots and lots.x_

Louis smiles at the text. He pulls up the contact picture he has set for Harry, a goofy selfie Harry had taken when Louis was out of the room. His eyes are the size of saucers, his mouth wide open, dimples outrageously denting his cheeks, and his obscene tongue sticking out. It’s a recent picture. He has no idea when Harry took it, but judging by the background he guesses that it was on the tour bus.

He swallows harshly, inspecting the picture closely. This is his Harry. He’s more than thankful for him. He doesn’t want to wake Harry up by sending a text, therefore he decides that he’ll message him back in a few hours when he wakes up, when it’s a more orthodox hour. Harry has always been on his back for staying up so late.

After scrolling through twitter for a bit longer and reading enough tweets to make him physically feel his brain cells dying off, his eyelids feel unbelievably heavy, which is his indicator to go to sleep. He slides his phone underneath his pillow, partially so he can get to it quickly if someone calls and partially so no one else looks through his phone. Of course, it’s password protected and all, but he’s rather obvious with all of his passwords, meaning easy access for Liam. He’s not hiding anything, but he’s almost positive there are some pictures underneath his camera roll that would not thrill Liam. It’d be different if Liam liked dicks, especially Harry’s dick.

And of course, that strange fling Liam had with Zayn doesn’t count, does it?

Slowly, his breathing evens out, his eyelids flutter shut, and he’s no longer deep in thought as sleep takes over his body.

When he wakes up to the sound of birds chirping outside the window, he's not exactly the happiest person in the world. There’s a huge tree outside, where Liam informed Louis there are many, many creatures living. “Don’t you have to fucking hibernate. Let me sleep.” He complains, through clenched teeth. He covers his head with his pillow, groaning loudly in annoyance. He could use another hour, or seven, of sleep.

Nearly five minutes of groaning and cursing the birds out under his breath pass before he decides that all hope is lost and he might as well get up. He checks his phone, grimacing when he reads that it’s only eight thirty, he could have slept until two in the afternoon and Liam truly would not have stopped him. He might have been annoyed, but he wouldn't have stopped him.

On his lockscreen, he sees the few social media notifications and a scattering of texts from Lottie, _how have u been????? i miss u big broooo love youuuu xx_ , Stan, _we should get together for some fifa.. so i can kick ur ass...AGAIN HA!!_ , Zayn, _joint lit!! :DDDDDD you wish you were here bro :PP_ , Niall, _next time yer comin t ireland w me !! fucking love ireland !!!!!!!_ , and finally, Harry, _Good morning! I don’t know if you got my goodnight text, I’m sure you’re busy, but I hope it was delivered. If it wasn’t, I just wanted you to know that I love you and I hope you’re having a marvelous time! I love you!xx._

Louis smiles at Harry’s texts, he’s so proper, even when he texts. His thumb brushes against the screen as though he can physically feel Harry’s presence through his phone. He thinks over a reply for a few seconds, before he type it out and sends it, _Good morning sweetheart ! I did get your message but I fell asleep before I could send a reply . Thank you for that ! I love you more than anything in the whole wide world !! Hope you slept well !_

He locks his phone and clutches it in his hand as he pulls the covers off with his other hand. Even though the kitchen is downstairs, he can vaguely smell some kind of herbal fragrance mixed with bacon, which he guesses Sophia is using to make the omelettes. He knows the smell of herbs way better than he should, thanks to Harry and his odd vegetarian phases.

He steps out of bed, goes into the bathroom for his morning toilet run, and then gives himself a once over in the mirror. He wets his fingertips down and proceeds to run them through his hair. He opts out of pulling a t-shirt on before he swiftly exits the suite. He makes his way down the hallway, down the spiral staircase, and into the spacious kitchen.

Liam sits at the island, dead center in the kitchen, and Sophia stands, facing him, with her back pressed to the counter as she waits for the bacon behind her to thoroughly cook.

“There he is!” Liam cheers when he sees Louis enter. “I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to wake up.”

“It’s only half past eight,” Louis argues. Nevertheless, he knows Liam is only attempting to get on his nerves, yet he’s entirely succeeding. “Morning babe,” He waves at Sophia. “I see Liam has been a whole lot of help to you. He’s probably only sat there and annoyed you all morning, am I right?”

“Spot on.” Sophia smiles. Her hair is pulled into a messy bun on top of her head and she only wears one of Liam’s t-shirts to cover her petite figure. “But then again, does he ever do anything else?”

Louis laughs, “Very true, but he shouldn’t leave the cooking all up to you.”

Liam tries to explain himself, “We all know I’m not the best chef.”

“Defensive lad,” Louis snickers. “Do you need any help Sophia? I’d be glad to be of assistance.”

“Yes, would you be a darling and get the potatoes? They’re in that cabinet right behind you.”

“Of course,” He sets his phone down, proceeds to turn to the cabinet and he pulls out the hefty bag of potatoes. He takes them over to Sophia and drops them on the countertop. “Anything else?”

“If you really want to you can dice them into one inch pieces.”

“Should I peel them first?”

“Nope, that’s quite alright, we want to leave them unpeeled. Apparently, they’ll taste better this way. Delia Smith taught me this recipe.” Sophia opens a drawer and pulls out a knife. She holds the blade down as she hands it to Louis. “If you cut three of them it should be enough. Thank you.”

“Careful Tommo, don’t cut your finger off.” Liam smirks to himself.

Louis turns around, pointing the knife in Liam’s direction, “Don’t test me,” He warns. Liam raises his hands in mock surrender, fighting the urge to smile. Louis turns around once again, his front pushed to the counter. “And for the record, I’ve actually improved a lot in my cooking skills. Someone had to cook at home for the last few months. I can only eat so much fast food. I eat enough shit when we’re on the road.”

“If only Liam was like you when I’ve fallen ill in the past. Honest to god, he’d let the both of us starve to death or he’d eat pizza until he exploded if it weren’t for me.” Sophia huffs.

“Not true,” Liam pipes up. “I’ve made cereal.”

“You haven’t made cereal, you donut,” Sophia laughs. “You simply get the box from the cupboard and pour it into a bowl. That’s nothing special.”

Louis laughs quietly to himself as he cuts the first potato into four quarters.

Liam rolls his eyes, “Anyway. I was thinking instead of making dinner here tonight we could go out.”

“Oh you mean like we have for the past three nights?” Louis arches an eyebrow. Sophia laughs, shaking her head, and she collects the first successfully cut potato into a pan. She sets the pan back on the stovetop and flips the knob to the lowest temperature. She waits on Louis for the next two diced potatoes.

Liam groans, “Fuck you.”

“Easy, love. There’s a young lady around. Maybe later,” Louis hushes. Liam doesn’t give him the satisfaction of responding, Louis brings it upon himself to keep the conversation intact. “So, Liam, where do you suggest we go then?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well...I don’t know the area, so that leaves the two of you to come up with something.”

Sophia suggests, “There’s a brilliant Chinese restaurant a tad -” Sadly, she’s interrupted mid-sentence.

Watson, Ralph, and Loki come running out of no where, instantaneously, and they start circling Sophia's legs like hawks hover above prey. She bends down, petting the top of their heads, “Well hello there. You’re hungry aren’t you? Liam, will you feed them?”

A sigh. “Sophia.”

“ _Please?_ ” She pouts her bottom lip out in a cute gesture, but Louis can see the mischievous glint in her eyes.

“I suppose,” He grumbles. “Come on. Time for breakfast.“ Standing up, he clicks his tongue against his teeth, and walks out of the kitchen. All three dogs trail behind him.

“You have him whipped.”

“Oh believe me, I know,” Her lips pull into a devious grin. “As I was saying, there’s a nice Chinese restaurant a tad farther into town.”

“Alright Dr. Dolittle, as long as they have good egg rolls, count me in.” Louis agrees.

“All of their food is rather good. I think you’ll enjoy it,” Sophia says. “If you’d prefer we can get takeaway and have it delivered to the house.”

Louis shrugs his shoulders, “It doesn’t matter to me.”

A third voice drifts its way back into the conversation, “I was actually thinking we could go clubbing tonight, after dinner, of course,” Liam says as he walks into the kitchen. He takes a seat at the island once again. “I haven’t taken you to any clubs yet, we’ve only been hanging out around the house. I’m sure you’d like to go out for a few drinks and have a few drunken dances.”

“I’ll be the designated driver,” Sophia offers. “I’m sure you plan on inviting Andy and he always manages to get more than a few shots in you. There’s no need for two members of One Direction to crash a car now is there?” She takes the last of the cut up potatoes and tosses them into the pan. She covers the top and flips the temperature dial up higher.

“It sounds ideal if you ask me,” Louis nods. “I’m always up for clubbing, you know that.”

“Great. We can leave for dinner at eight and be at the club at around nine thirty.”

Sophia smiles, “That settles it then. Oh and breakfast should be done in like ten minutes. I only have to make the base for the omelette.”

“Need anymore help?”

“No, I’m alright. Thank you Louis.” She goes to the fridge and collects an egg carton and milk. She carries them to the counter and begins to create the base for the omelettes, mixing eggs, milk, salt, and pepper in a large bowl.

Louis sits beside Liam.

Sometimes Liam’s a bit too curious and only proves that characteristic to be true when he asks, “Have you spoken to Harry?”

“Yeah. He’s texted me a few times. Why? Is there something I need to know?”

“I was only wondering. You two are nearly inseparable. I’m surprised you were convinced enough to come spend a week here with us.”

“I just figured, after your girlfriend's nagging,” Sophia throws her head back and sticks her tongue out at him, “that we have roughly a month of touring left and then a year break starting in March. I’m going to have plenty of time to spend with him. I think we both needed a break from each other. We’ve been together everyday for the last four months. Sometimes the situation becomes overwhelming. I'm sure you know, I’m downright mean when I’m overwhelmed. This entire situation has been quite exhausting. I needed a break from it. You gave me the perfect opportunity. I took it upon myself to take it.”

“I respect that you know your breaking point.” Liam says, honestly. “I think this break will do the two of you good. It’s not a bad thing to admit that you’ve reached your breaking point Louis. I think that you forget that you’re human, sometimes.”

"I know, deep down, that this break is a good thing Liam, but I feel guilty."

"Why's that?"

Louis sighs, “I can always escape from the situation, like I'm doing right now. Harry can’t. Liam, I can leave anytime I want. I can decide that it’s too much for me to handle, and not saying that I would, but I could leave him and never look back. He can never leave the situation. It really bothers me sometimes, you know? I can only do so much for him.”

Liam doesn’t know what to say at first. He looks at Louis, nods slowly, and finally exhales a reply, “You love him. That’s all he’ll ever need Louis. Your love is the best thing he’s ever had in his life. I’m sure he looks at this in an entirely different way than you do. Maybe he’s not as miserable as you think he is. Have you ever bothered asking him?”

“I - well, he, “ Louis sighs, rubbing his temples. “No, I guess I’ve never asked him.”

“You mean to tell me you’ve been with him for over five years and you’ve never once asked him how feels about the situation? Well it looks like your problem is the lack of communication.”

Louis hates it when Liam’s right.

“Here we go,” Sophia sets down two plates in front of them. She grabs her own plate and sits across from Louis and Liam. “I’m excited for tonight. We haven’t been able to go clubbing in so long.”

“Once we’re on break this is going to be a weekly occurrence.” Louis pitches. He uses the knife and fork to cut his omelette. He tries a small piece first and, not to surprise, it tastes professionally made. “This is great.”

Liam glances up at Sophia and winks at her, “I send my compliments to the chef.”

"I heard the chef was wondering if she could get a little something in return?"

"Oh yeah? What exactly would that be?"

Sophia bites down on her lower lip, "She said she wants to discuss it with you in the bedroom."

"Ah, I see," Liam smirks, using his pointer finger to trace his lips, "As soon as I'm done with breakfast I'll meet her in there."

Louis smiles at the two of them. The three of them finish their breakfast, which leaves them parting separate ways, Sophia and Liam head up to their bedroom, which leaves Louis shouting out the most parental phrase he can think of, "Use protection!"

Louis stays behind in the kitchen, opting to clean all the dishes. He collects all three plates and all six pieces of silverware and takes them over to the sink. He has nothing better to do and he is the guest, his mum instilled manners into him and his siblings and she taught them how to be polite. She always told them him that when he’s the guest in someone else’s home he should do at least one favor for them.

He turns the hot water on and pours dish soap all over the dirty plates and utensils. He manages to get them clean and set aside in under three minutes, a personal best for him. "Now what?" he asks himself.

A glance around the kitchen sends his eyes focusing on his phone, he left it sitting on the counter. He goes to his phone and picks it up, deciding instantly that he'll give Harry a ring. He wants to hear his voice.

All it takes is a passcode entry and a quick scroll through his call history to locate Harry's contact.

He clicks Harry's name and holds his phone to his ear. Three rings pass before Harry picks up and his rough voice echoes through the phone, "Hello?"

"Hello love. How are you?"

He can almost hear Harry's smile on the other line, "Fantastic now that I'm talking to you. How are you? Are you having a good time?" Harry's made a 95% recovery with his speaking, as his therapist puts it. She says that the only issues with speaking he'll have to work on happen when he's overwhelmed or upset. It's challenging for him to speak coherently when he's emotional, which is understandable. Other than that, there's the very rare word that he slips on.

"I'm having a splendid time. It's gorgeous here. I miss you dearly. How's Gemma been?"

Harry laughs, "She's been annoying, bossy, worrisome, you know - the usual."

Louis swears he hears a shout on Harry's end, something along the lines of, "I resent that!"

"I would be worried if she was any less than that. Tell her I said hi when you get off the phone. What have you been up to?"

"Nothing, really, though I have been reviewing the plans for the organization, editing them, making a few phone calls." Harry says.

"How's that coming along?"

"I wasn't aware of how much work needs to be put into a non-profit organization. It's been alright. I've been in contact with Mr. Sheldon, he's reviewing the paperwork currently, I'm waiting for him to get back into contact with me."

"He's the best lawyer we could have asked for," Louis points out. Harry makes a noise of agreement. "Have you told the boys about any of this yet?"

"No," Louis sighs and Harry quickly adds on, "But I plan on it. As soon as I have everything settled. I just don't want to tell them about it and have it crash and burn. It'd be embarrassing."

"I understand where you're coming from, Harry, but don't keep it in the works for too long. They'll be disappointed."

"Yeah I know," Harry mutters. He changes the focal point of their conversation, "So, what are you doing right now?"

"Well I think Sophia and Liam are enjoying each other's company a tad too much right now, so I'm left alone, fortunately. I think I might watch some TV. Do you reckon I could catch some X-Factor reruns?"

"I'm sure you might be able to later on. I think it's a bit too early in the morning for reruns. Gemma has Skins on, you could watch that."

"What series?"

"I think...it's series 2, but I don't know, let me check," Harry replies after a few moments of silence, "Yeah, series 2."

"I didn't like series 2 as well as the others. What episode is it?"

"It's the one where Michelle and Sid finally admit they're together."

"You'll have to be more specific."

"They're in a nightclub. Uh - Tony's just taken ecstasy. He's thrown up in the toilets."

"Is that the episode where he meets that one girl with the tattoo? Has sex with her in the dormitory and all that?"

"I think so, yeah."

"Nice. That's one of the better episodes of the series."

"Well that's because it's thought-provoking. No one knows whether the girl he met was real or not. It's a mystery. Was it all in his head?"

"I'd say so."

"But how did he have sex with her?"

"Maybe he had a really nice masturbation session. Imagined a girl and jacked off to the thought of having sex with her. Anyway you choose to look at it, Harry, it's his subconscious speaking to him. He suffered a traumatic brain injury. His entire life was screwed up. He needed hope, so his brain created a girl to help him seek hope."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I mean, we all need something or someone to give us hope, for some people it's religion or music or a another person or whatever, but since Tony didn't have any of that then he needed to create a symbol for himself, do you understand?"

"I think so," There's absolute silence of Harry's end. "You're my source of hope. You're the thing that helps me get through everyday of my life."

Louis smiles to himself, "And you're mine baby."

"I'm glad you're not my subconscious. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," Harry whispers. "I love you, so much."

"I love you too," Louis bites down on his lower lip, glancing up at the ceiling with slightly blurry vision, Harry's so genuine. "You're amazing Haz."

He can hear Harry sniffling on the other line. Louis isn't sure what he said that has Harry so emotional, but he's okay with it, they're good emotions.

“Why do all of our conversations take a turn in this direction?”

“I don’t know,” Harry hums. “What are you doing later on? Do you think we can, maybe, Skype?”

“I was going to go out with Liam and Sophia for a few drinks, but I'll Skype you before then, if you want.”

Harry humorlessly laughs, “So you’re going clubbing tonight?”

“No, no, I’m just,” Louis sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He can’t lie to Harry. “Okay, yeah, we’re going to go clubbing.”

Harry’s reply comes through, unimpressed, “Oh.”

“Harry. It’s not how you think it is.”

“No, Louis, it’s fine.” Harry says, calmly. He hates when Louis goes out drinking and partying, although not because he doesn’t trust him or because he doesn’t want him to have a good time. It’s only because Louis seems to go a bit overboard. He smokes and drinks a lot on those nights and Harry already can’t stand when Louis smokes. The smell turns him off.

And a second thing, he can’t stand seeing pictures of Louis with drunk girls. He knows Louis is gay and he shouldn’t worry about it, but he can’t help but feel jealousy. The way they touch him and look at him bothers Harry. It only brings the tabloids marking Louis as a scummy party animal back to his mind.

He knows that he shouldn’t be as bitter as he is about it. After all, he doesn’t have to deal with a drunk Louis, but knowing Louis is going to go out and participate in the antics Harry can’t stand, much less can’t do, irks him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I hope you have an amazing time.” Harry’s voice holds no emotion.

“If you don’t feel comfortable -”

“No, Louis. I really want you to have a good time. I know clubbing makes you happy. You don’t need my permission, I hope you have a good time.”

“Alright. Do you still want to Skype?”

“No, that’s alright. If you’re busy, I understand.”

“I won’t be busy until later, sweetheart.”

“Okay.”

Louis sighs at Harry, “Okay.” There’s an awkward silence. Louis can feel his face flushing and Harry isn’t even there. "Babe, I'm going to get off the phone. I know I'll talk to you before then, but I'll see you on Friday."

"We're still meeting at the O2 right?"

"Yeah, before the show. Liam and I are driving in on Friday. Please, have Gemma drive you or call someone from our team and ask them to pick you up, they won't mind. I don't want you getting into a car wreck."

"I don't even have my license back."

"I know, but I also know you and I know that you're extremely stubborn. You've driven with it suspended before, I swear Harry, do not drive yourself, do you understand?" He's serious, there isn't an ounce of him that's kidding, he's had car accidents happen before and he won't have it happen again.

Harry isn't going to ever get his license back, but Louis hasn't dared to tell him, yet. The road is too hazardous, for one, and second of all Louis is almost positive the flashing of tail lights, headlights, street lights, and stop lights are what trigger some of his seizures. He's been known to have smaller fits during car rides and on the tour bus because of road lights.

"Yes, I understand, mum. Now, I'll talk to you later. I love you. Goodbye."

"Okay, darling. I love you too." Louis hangs up and sets his phone back down. He doesn't hear any noises coming from the bedroom anymore, which he's thankful for. There wasn't an abundance of them, but the ones he did faintly hear made his skin tingle with disgust.

"Are you two done yet?" He rolls his eyes when there's no reply. Instead of calling out to the two of them again, he takes it upon himself to check out the scene.

Once he arrives outside of their bedroom door, he raps his knuckles against the door, "Are you done?"

Liam shouts from the other side of the door, "Done what?"

"Having sex with your girlfriend."

"Oh...uh, yeah, I'm fully satisfied, are you?" Liam mumbles.

Sophia hums, "Mhm."

"Yeah, we're done. We'll be out in a few minutes, we've got to clean up."

Louis face scrunches up in disgust and he steps away from the door, "...Okay."

As he walks back downstairs, into their living room, he thinks about how refreshing it was to have the clearance from Dr. Richards to have "gentle" sex. Of course, he did only what she approved. Harry had been hesitant when they reached the stage of undressing on the bed. He hadn't realized their make out session was going to reach a climax as quickly as it did.

_"I'm going to be as gentle as I can be. If you start to feel sick or dizzy, you've got to let me know. I don't want to hurt you." Louis had told him. Harry met his eyes and stared at him nervously until Louis had put his thumb to where the scar lay. He had rubbed the pad of thumb over the healing skin. "I'm going to take good care of you, do you trust me?"_

_"I trust you." Harry whispered._

Surprisingly, the sex hadn't been half bad. Louis has always liked rough sex, which Harry has made very clear he enjoys too, but soft sex wasn't the worst thing. He kept an eye on Harry the entire time, slowing down when Harry would shut his eyes or make the slightest movement that Louis wasn't comfortable with.

Louis always tops, not because Harry isn't man enough or isn't good at it. It's just if Harry has a seizure during sex, which he's unfortunately had before, he'd rather Harry be beneath him than on top of him. Harry hadn't been hurt by Louis saying he'd rather top, he understood, which made things less stressful on both of them.

Liam comes into the living room, shirtless, rubbing the back of his neck, "Hey, mate, sorry about that."

"Don't be, I get it completely, you love her, Liam, have all the sex you want. Where is the poor girl?"

"Poor?"

"I can only imagine what you're like in bed," Louis sighs, over dramatically. "I hope she's alright."

"Ha, you're a riot Tomlinson," Liam sarcastically huffs. "Anyway, the thrilled girl is taking a shower."

"You should go in for round two."

Liam scoffs, "We're not like you and Harry. It's not a contest to see how many times we can do it in an hour. She has morals."

"Want to know how many times Harry and I can do it in an hour?"

"No."

"Five."

"I don't - _Five?_ You can not do it five times in one hour. That's impossible."

"Maybe we both recharge quickly."

"Maybe you're full of shit."

Louis shrugs, "I guess you'll never know."

"What about foreplay?"

"You don't always need to have foreplay. Especially, if you keep going at it."

"Jesus Christ." Liam runs his hand through his unkempt hair.

"Want to know a secret?"

"No, I'm done with this conversation."

"Oh, come on Liam."

"Nope."

"Your loss."

"The less I know about your sex life, the better." Liam replies.

"Suit yourself."

Liam takes a seat in one of the recliners. "Is there anything else you want to do? Maybe we can dedicate today to heading into town and checking shops out. Then we can go to a club after."

"We can do that."

"Brilliant. I'm sure Sophia will be pleased with this new option."

By the time everyone is dressed and ready, it's nearly noon. They arrive into town at about twelve thirty. Since Liam chose a mansion as far away from civilization as he could find, they have to drive at least half an hour out to get anywhere.

"Are we going to get mobbed?" Louis asks as soon as Liam and Sophia are out of the car.

"We should be okay. Soph and I come into town often enough."

“Okay, but if we get mobbed I’m ditching you. I do not feel like having my balls fondled today.”

Sophia expression shifts from one of humor to one of mortification. “Oh my god.” She whispers.

Liam raises his eyebrows at Louis and only sighs when he’s completely ignored.

“What’s the best shop in town?” Louis asks. He takes it upon himself to lead the way. Sophia and Liam exchange a look, but ultimately decide to follow him. Louis seems to always get what he wants.

“Well Wulfrun Shopping Center is a few blocks from here. They have plenty of shops there. Zoe and I have been in there a lot. It's nice." Sophia says.

"Does that sound alright?" Liam nudges Louis with his elbow.

"I don’t care what we do. As long as we stay out of that damn house for the rest of the day. It’s nice to have a bit of fresh air, isn’t it? We’ve been holed up for three days.”

“We’ve gone out for dinner.”

“You know what I mean,” He sighs. “I want to see Wolverhampton. So far, I like it very much, but staying locked up in a house isn’t very much of an adventure.”

Liam shrugs, “I guess.”

“Oh! There’s the sign for the shopping center. We’ll be there in three minutes tops.” Sophia says, smiling wide. She clutches the handles of her purse tighter. Honestly, both her and Liam are big spenders, Sophia more on clothes and makeup and Liam more on useless superhero merchandise.

Their house shows that Liam is a huge Marvel and DC fan with scatterings of comic books and posters everywhere. Louis wonders if he’s ever pulled out his Batman costume for intercourse with Sophia.

“It’s quite big isn’t it? We don’t have a big one like this in Donny. What stores are there?”

Sophia lists off, “There’s Cex, Warren James, Tyler’s, Peacocks.”

“Warren James? The jewelry store?”

“Is there another store called Warren James?” Liam asks.

“No, but I was making sure I heard her right, smart ass.”

They walk to the front entrance of the shopping center. Liam holds the door open for both Sophia and Louis and subsequently follows suit.

“I see this is where everyone comes on Monday afternoons. Doesn’t anyone work in this town?” Louis comments, baffled at the amount of people stuffed into the shopping center.

“One of the stores is most likely having a sale.”

“It’s like they knew we were coming…” Louis sneers. “They didn’t know, did they?”

Liam rolls his eyes, “Not as far as I know.”

“Soooo,” Sophia draws their attention away from the mass of people and to herself. “Where to?”

“I want to go to Warren James.”

“Why’s that Tommo? Are you going to buy your fiance a present?”

Louis shrugs, “I might. Four months of recovery deserves something more than celebratory sex, don’t you think?”

“What is it with you and sex all of a sudden?”

“I can finally have it with my significant other. Surely, you understand the feeling.”

“Oh, I understand. Now let’s go.”

Sophia blushes, “Follow me.”

The three of them walk close together, as to not get separated. There are a few fans that recognize them and request pictures and autographs. They agree, but only if the fans wait a few hours before posting their location online. The fans oblige.

Sophia leads them into the jewelry store and Louis is surprised he’s not blinded by the sparkling of the crystals as they lie in the display cases. He hasn’t been in a store like this since he bought Harry an engagement ring.

He glances down at his own engagement ring that Harry bought for him nearly two years ago. He hadn’t been permitted to wear it until their coming out had been officially announced. He slides the ring up and down his finger, smiling to himself.

“Hello!” A boisterous woman greets the three of them. She appears wealthy from her clothing to her nail job. “Is there something I can help you with? Are you buying the missus something today?” She immediately focuses all of her attention on Liam and Sophia.

Louis clears his throat, “Actually, I was looking for some assistance.”

“Oh! This is your missus then. My apologies,” She leans closer to him, whispering. “Watch out for the Beckham look alike. He looks like he wants to snatch her up and run.” A loud, fake laugh leaves her mouth. Louis looks entirely displeased.

“She’s not my missus. My male fiancé isn’t here with me at the moment. I’m looking to possibly purchase something for him.”

Liam stands behind Sophia and wraps his arms around her slender torso, pulling her closer to his chest.

“I am so sorry.” The woman apologizes. “Let me start over. My name is Anna. How can I assist you today?”

“I want to look at any men’s cross necklaces you have. My fiancé broke his other one a few months ago.”

“Oh dear. How did that happen?”

 _I had to rip it off of him when he had a seizure so he wouldn’t strangle himself._ “Oh, you know, it was old and rusty. The chain snapped in half. He misplaced the pendant.” He explains. His facial expression remains stoic, lips pursed, and chin held high.

“Ah, poor thing, is he really religious?”

 _Poor thing? You don’t even know._ “Quite.”

“That’s even worse,” Anna says. “Come right this way. We have a few in stock.” She’s stood behind the counter, but walks in the area she wants Louis to look, brushing past her associates with mumbled apologies. “Here we are. Personally, this is a favorite of mine.” She points at a silver cross encased in a black outline.

“My boy is a rather simple man.” Louis says. “His old cross was a crucifix.”

“Okay, not a problem, what are you looking to spend?”

“Price isn’t an issue.”

“Alright, hm...what about this one? It’s a crucifix. It’s stainless steel.”

“May I see it out of the display?”

“Of course,” Anna opens the display and withdraws the crucifix pendant and chain. She holds it in her hand as she showcases it to Louis.

“Harry would like that. It looks a lot like his old one.” Liam points out. His chin rests in the crook of Sophia’s neck, the stubble of his growing beard scratches at her cheek.

Louis nods, “I think so too. If I were to buy that necklace right now, would I own it today?”

“Yes. The one I’m showing you is all yours. I can polish it up and box it up for you, if you’d like.”

“Please?”

Anna nods, “Sure. I’ll meet you up front.” She walks away, still bearing the cross, and disappears into the back.

”That was easy.” Liam comments.

“You know, the two of you can look around. I didn’t mean for you to stay by my side.”

Sophia smiles at Liam.

“Oh boy. What did you see?” He asks, exasperated.

She pulls away from him and leads him by his hand to another area of the jewelry store, leaving Louis standing by himself, for the second time today. He decides he might as well walk up front, where there’s a short line of customers.

By the time he’s at the front of the line, Anna’s come back with the necklace. He purchases it, tells her thank you, and wanders around until he spots Liam and Sophia.

Sophia has a ring on her finger. She’s holding her hand in front of her face. “Don’t tell me you’re getting engaged. That’d make four of us.”

Liam laughs, eyes crinkling in the corners, as he turns to face Louis, “I meant to tell you. I did.”

Louis’s mouth drops wide open, “No way. How long was I gone? I was only in line for ten minutes and now you’re engaged?”

“Louis. Hush.” Sophia slaps his chest.

“When we were in New York for tour, I couldn’t help myself, it was a spur of the moment thing,” Liam smiles. “I haven’t had a chance to get her a ring until now.”

Sophia stares at the gold band on her finger. There’s a huge diamond in the center. “Liam, I don’t know, this ring is over one thousand pounds.”

“Come on princess. If it’s the ring you want, then let me buy it for you.”

Sophia becomes hesitant, “I mean, I like it a lot, but -”

“That settles it! We’ll take this one.” He tells the salesperson working with them.

“Now Niall’s the only bachelor. How disappointing.”

“You didn’t hear about Zayn and Perrie?” Liam asks. Louis shakes his head. “He broke off the engagement. I don’t think he was ready for the commitment.”

Louis begins to angrily rant, “He’s a fucking idiot. What’s wrong with him? Perrie has been so good to him. She’s helped him through so much and he won’t find another girl like her. He’s such a shithead sometimes, god.”

Sophia sighs, “That’s what I said, babe.”

Liam buys the ring for Sophia and she wears it right out of the store. They spend the rest of the day walking in stores and looking around. Though none of them made any purchases, they agree that it was a lot of fun.

When they get back to the house to change into their specialized nightclub outfits, Louis speaks his mind and admits he doesn’t feel like clubbing. Harry’s attitude towards the situation makes him hesitant. His explanation to the two of them  is that it’s a waste of time without Harry beside him and also it only reminds of the narrative that management had tried to set for him: party boy Louis. He had met Calvin, Oli, Briana, and countless others during that short-lived time period.

_“You’re going to be Briana’s baby’s father! How exciting! Congratulations!” One Direction’s head of PR had told him._

_He arched an eyebrow at her and let out a loud laugh. He covered his mouth to hold the rest of his laughing back, “Pardon? What did you say?”_

_“Briana is pregnant. You’re the father.”_

_“There’s two problems with your theory. I’m gay and I didn’t have sex with her. If you’re looking for the father than you may want to talk to Oli.” He started to stand up from the conference table._

_“The tabloids don’t know that.” The cold-hearted woman, Katie, said._

_“I thought we were done with all this bullshit after Eleanor and I ‘broke up’,” Louis sat back down. “And anyways, the tabloids and the fans know something's up.”_

_“Do they?”_

_“Check Twitter or Tumblr sometime.”_

_Katie scoffed, “That’s why you’re expecting a child.”_

_“But I’m not.”_

_“Briana seems to think otherwise.”_

_Louis laughed in disbelief, “I’ve never even laid a hand on her. Are you seriously trying to manipulate this situation, right now? I have a lot going on in my life at the moment. And a second thing, I know who’ve I had sex with. Harry. I’ve had sex with Harry, that’s all.”_

_“Not according to your recent antics.”_

_“I cannot believe you’re trying to throw me back into the closet. I have more important things to worry about right now.”_

_“Like what?”_

_“Harry might need brain surgery. His epilepsy is at a really bad stage right now. He needs me, not a portion of me. I’m not a father. If you want to involve me in sleazy PR than at least give me a believable story. The fans are never going to buy a baby scandal. Nice try. I think Niall being part dog would be more realistic at this point than a baby.”_

_“You can’t deny this.”_

_“Can’t I? I don’t need this. Right now, my sick fiancé needs me. I’ve left him in the care of our dog and I’m here with you. I should really get my priorities straight. Goodbye.”_

Calvin and Oli had been two of the worst people he ever met. Harry had met them and instantly taken a disliking in them, which really meant something considering Harry always tries to find the good in people. Louis truly hadn’t minded them until they had smarted comments off about Harry.

He let the first comments go. When they had first met Harry, they met him when Louis brought him along to dinner, and they had said, “He doesn’t look sick.” That comment was understandable, Louis supposed. He had heard that often. Epilepsy wasn't always evident.

He hadn't understood at first when Harry told him either, it was fair that others didn’t understand at first glance.

Once the comments had turn downright cruel was when Louis had a hard time biting his tongue.

"I've had pains worse than anything he’s ever had, I guarantee it. Why is he being such a big fucking baby?" Oil had said when Louis told them he needed to take a phone call from Niall. He explained that he asked Niall to stay with Harry, who had been in a lot of pain right before Louis was forced to leave their hotel, and the call may be important. Perhaps, he should have kept the details to himself. He could’ve said he had a phone call to take and spared himself their crude comments.

The one that had really set him off was, "At least it's not cancer." Easy to be said, Louis took offense to that comment, possibly more offense than Harry would had,  and that particular day was the last he spent with Calvin and Oli.

"Okay. What do you want to do then?" Liam asks.

"If you really want to go clubbing then go ahead. I can stay here. I might Skype Harry or call him or something."

Sophia looks towards Liam and shrugs, "It's up to you.”

"We'll go then." Liam announces. "I'll see you later?"

"Of course."

"Bye Louis." Sophia smiles.

Liam is one lucky boy. She’s gorgeous.

"Bye. Be careful."

Clubbing is ultimately the heightened fun of the week break for them. They come back in one piece, Liam a little less drunk than the last time they went out, fortunately, Sophia is completely sober and a little more than annoyed with Liam.

The next few days leading to Friday are filled with relaxation. Songwriting, watching movies, and laying around are all activities taken place. Louis doesn't remember the last time he didn't have to do anything and he could lay around. He told Liam that they didn’t have to be doing something fun every second. The downtime is his favorite part.

But, Friday finally comes. Louis has to be packed before noon, which he successfully is, thanks to his mad fast skills when he procrastinates for too long.

Liam spends at least fifteen minutes telling Sophia goodbye and that he'll see her when she flies out to Dublin. He doesn't blame Liam.

He's been known to give lengthy goodbyes to Harry as well.

He hikes his duffle further up his shoulder as he listens to the sweet words passed between the newly engaged couple. It only reminds him that he'll see Harry in a matter of hours.

"Bye Soph. I love you." Liam kisses her one last time.

"I love you too. Remember to call," She looks up at Louis. "This last week has been so much fun. If you ever want to come back for another stay, please do. Be careful boys."

"We will be," Louis promises and he snatches the keys from Liam's hand. "That's why I'm driving!"

"Oh no. No, no. You are not driving my car."

"Tell that to your keys. Don't worry, you can have shotgun."

Liam groans, rubbing his forehead. He doesn't argue, knowing he'll lose against Louis' wrath, and he follows him out to the car. They climb in and begin their journey.

By the time they arrive in London, after a two hour drive, Liam looks like he's going to be ill, again.

"You drive like a maniac. I'm never letting you drive again." He slowly steps out of the car all while Louis smirks to himself.

Louis gets out, rounds the front of the vehicle, and both of them head inside the O2, "I made a two and a half hour drive a two hour drive you're welcome."

"You also made me throw up my breakfast."

Louis shrugs, "Maybe you caught something. I'm not that bad of a driver."

"You ran through two red lights and a stop sign."

"I mean, if you want to be specific. I got us here in one piece though, didn't I?" Louis asks.

Liam shakes his head, "You're reckless."

"Yeah, yeah, like I've never heard that before," Louis hushes him with a wave of his hand. "What room are we looking for?"

"Niall texted me and said it was in the West wing. It'll have our logo on the door."

Louis points to a door up ahead, "This one."

"Nice."

They reach the door and Louis jerks it open, allowing Liam to head in first, he follows behind. As soon as he steps into the room, to his dismay, he sees Zayn and Niall, but no Harry. He forces a smile and hugs both of them, "Hey lads."

Liam happens to ask the question he was wondering, "Where's Harry?"

"He wasn't feeling very well. He said he was nauseous, so he went to the bathroom." Zayn replies.

Louis frowns, he doesn't like the sound of that, "Where's the bathroom at? I'll go check on him."

"It's a few doors down."

"Got it. Thanks." Louis steps out of the room again and he walks down the hallway. He realizes that he's gone the wrong way and he turns around, walking down the other end of the hallway until he sees the men's bathroom.

It's a single bathroom, he can tell by the handle on the door.

He knocks on the door, "Harry?"

"Hm?"

"Harry. It's Louis. Are you alright?"

There's a bit of commotion behind the door. The flush of the toilet, the sink turning off, and finally the door being unlocked. Louis waits patiently.

Harry opens the door and he smiles softly, "Hiii."

"Hi," Louis whispers. "Are you alright? I heard you felt ill."

"I think so. I think I forgot to eat breakfast with my pills. I was in a rush this morning."

"You didn't throw up then?"

"No. I was close, but I didn't." Harry reassures.

"That means I can do this," Taking a step closer to Harry, he kisses him, his chest presses to Harry's chest. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," Harry steadily pulls away, but presses his forehead to Louis'. "I'm

glad you're back. I don't think I would have made it another day without you."

"I was going insane without you. I'm sure Liam's telling everyone how much I spoke of you. If I talk about you enough it's like I can feel your presence."

Harry shivers against Louis, "Is that - what do you have in your pocket?" He murmurs. "You're that excited to see me?"

"Oh!" Louis exclaims and he shifts away from Harry. Harry watches on in confusion. "I almost forgot. I do have something for you." He fishes in his pocket for a long black box. He withdraws it and hands it over to Harry.

"What is this?"

"Open it and see." Louis gestures for him to continue.

"Um, okay," Harry pulls the top of the box off and he nearly drops the entire gift on the floor. "You bought me a new cross? Lou, you didn't have to."

"But I wanted to. I busted your other one."

"That wasn't your fault. You knew I wasn't angry with you over it," Harry argues. He runs his finger over the pendant. "Thank you so much."

"Let me see it." Harry hands the box back over without a moment's hesitation. "Turn around." Harry obliges, not even bothering to question what Louis's doing. "This necklace has a clasp. I won't have to rip it off if something happens."

"When something happens." Harry mutters. Louis ignores that comment to the best of his ability. He stands on his tiptoes and he lays the pendant on Harry's chest, before bringing both ends of the chain around and clasping them together. "Alright, now let me see it, yeah?"

Harry faces Louis. "It looks nice," Louis says. He reaches forward and straightens the pendant out. "Let me take a picture."

"No."

"Oh come on. You look gorgeous. One picture, please?"

Harry glances at him, "I'll get my hat from the -"

"Harry." Louis whispers. "Please." He traces the outline of Harry's scar with his pointer finger. His hair is a bit longer, not as clean shaven, but the scar stands out, which it will always, to some extent. "You look so beautiful right now. Let me snap a picture."

Harry eyes him up and down, eyelids fluttering, "Okay."

"Perfect," Louis pulls his phone from his back pocket and he angles it so Harry fits in the frame. "Give me a smile, yeah?"

Harry's smile looks more like a grimace but Louis will take it. Louis double checks to make sure the flash is off before snapping the photo and he smiles at the result. "Look at how cute you are. The people of Instagram are going to love it."

"You're not -"

"What filter should I use?" Louis interrupts, clicking different Instagram filters. "Oh, the black and white is darling, isn't it? I like that." He captions the picture, Babes before the show xx, and finally he posts it.

"I can't believe you -" Harry cuts himself off with a choked gasp.

Louis furrows his eyebrows, "Harry? What's wrong?"

Harry shakes his head, clearing his throat, "Nothing. I'm fine. I'm fine. Let's go see the boys." He starts walking back and Louis still stands in place, utter confusion crossing his expression as he watches Harry.

"Harry?"

Harry looks over his shoulder, "Yeah?"

"Never mind." Louis catches up with him and the two of the head back to the green room. But before he opens the door, he turns back to Harry, reaching for his shoulder. He squeezes gently. “I want you to tell the boys about the organization.”

“I will.”

“No, I want you to do it today, before the show.”

“Louis.”

“I’m serious Harry. If you don’t do it, I will.” Louis releases Harry’s shoulder and he opens the door. He guides Harry inside and shuts the door behind them.

“There they are. How are you feeling H?” Zayn asks.

“Better. I think I just need to eat something. I didn’t eat with my medication.”

Niall bounces up, “What do you want? I’ll go get it for you.”

“No it’s -”

“I’ll have Sarah whip you something up. What are you in the mood for?”

Harry gawks at him in disbelief, “Erm...just something light, some fruits, I guess.” Niall disappears from the room. Harry feels guilty. “He didn’t have to do that…”

“He wanted to Harry. Let him do you a favor. Relax. Take a seat.” Louis places his hand on the small of Harry’s back and he leads him to the couch.

“You guys are always doing me favors. I don’t deserve them.”

“We don’t always do you favors.” Liam replies. “We do you favors when we feel like you need them.”

Harry sinks back against the couch and huffs, “I don’t need any favors. I’m not a charity case.”

“Everyone needs a bit of help now and again,” Zayn shrugs. “We only want to help you. You’ve helped all of us in the past.”

“Really? How?”

Zayn points out, “You’re great at giving advice. I would have never been able to loosen up on stage if it weren’t for you.”

“That’s nothing.”

“You’re always offering yourself up. You take most of the heat around here. You’re genuinely a good person, Harry.” Liam says.

Harry sighs, “I don’t think that’s comparable to having friends help me through an epileptic fit.”

“Sure it is,” Louis finally speaks. “You’re looking at it from a whole other point of view, love, is all. Yes, I agree, helping someone having a seizure is a bit more serious than giving advice or taking a brutal scolding, but they’re all the same thing. Symbols of affection.”

“I wish that the favors you boys did for me weren’t as major. Like, it would be amazing to have a bit of normalcy.”

“You can’t pick and choose certain scenarios, H.” Liam smiles weakly at him. “Please, always keep in mind that Niall, Zayn, and I, we don’t mind helping you. We choose to help.”

Zayn nods, “That’s right. Don’t ever believe anything different.”

Harry glances towards Louis and Louis gives him a smile, placing his hand on Harry’s thigh in encouragement.

Niall comes back minutes later with a bowl of cubed fruit, unaware of the conversation that’s taken place moments ago. He hands the bowl off to Harry. “Thank you.”

Louis smiles, “That Sarah sure does work fast, doesn’t she?”

Harry pops a cubed watermelon in his mouth. “She does.”

An comfortable silence fills the room. All of the boys end up playing games and checking social media on their phones. Finally, Louis can’t help himself and he speaks, "There's something important Harry has to tell you." Louis says, prodding his fiancé's arm, and gesturing for him to tell their three band mates of the news. Everyone sets their phone down and sits up expectantly, keeping a close eye on Harry.

Harry gazes at Louis in confusion. Louis mouths, “The organization.”

"Uh, well..." Harry looks towards the boys. He’s slightly annoyed with Louis. "I guess I should just say it, so yeah, I'm starting a nonprofit organization."

Niall arches an eyebrow. "You're starting an organization?" He asks, as though he hasn't heard Harry correctly.

"Erm...yes?" He isn’t sure whether the boys are happy for him or not, he can’t gauge their emotions.

"Congratulations," Niall smiles widely. He moves closer to Harry, bends down, and engulfs him in the biggest Horan hug imaginable. “I’m excited for you.”

Liam and Zayn both pitch in congratulations as well. They wait until Niall is done with his very thorough embrace before they both stand up and hug him.

Once everyone’s sat down again, Liam asks, "What's the organization for?"

Harry smiles, weakly, "It’s for epileptic youths."

"Seriously?" Zayn appears shocked. "That's incredible. I think this is a great thing you’re doing. There aren’t many epilepsy charities are there?”

“Not very many, no, especially not for what I want to achieve.”

Niall wonders aloud, “Where did you get the idea from?”

“My experiences. While I was recovering it came to mind. I spoke with Louis about the idea and he was very supportive. He’s been a lot of help.”

Louis smiles to himself. “It’s been all you, babe. I haven’t made not one single phone call.”

“You don’t have to be directly involved. Your support is everything.”

Liam speaks up, "If I may, how does someone go about forming an organization?"

"It's all down to business." Harry replies. "It's the same as if I were going to start a company or corporation, I guess."

"And since I have experience with business, I’ve been able to guide him in the right direction." Louis adds in, wrapping his arm around Harry. He tugs Harry closer and Harry snuggles into his side.

"Oh right. Since you've started 78 Productions." Niall points out, finally understanding.

Louis has 78 Productions, his recording company, for when One Direction comes to an end. Though, when they go on their year break he plans on putting more time into finding acts and finding a space to transform into his studio. Harry plans on dedicating his time to his organization during the year break. They'll both be plenty busy.

"It mainly has to do with finances as well," Louis explains. "You owe the government for certain expenses. You have to pay to have an official title. You have to pay for office space, workers, so on, so forth."

"It's never been nicer to have money." Harry smirks. "All that money in the bank has never been more useful."  

Louis kisses the top of his head, "I couldn't be prouder of you."

"So, do you have any names for the organization in mind?"

"Erm...yeah, I think I do, but I don't know if it's any good."

Louis glances down at Harry, since Harry is squished against him, "I didn't know you had any ideas. Go on. What is it? I’m intrigued."

"Project Evolve?" Harry says, though his voice rises in a question, as though he's second guessing himself.

"Project Evolve? What's the basis?" Zayn asks, curiously.

"Well evolve means to change, right? And I plan on changing the way epilepsy is dealt with. I chose the word evolve because it starts with e, like epilepsy. It sounds sort of dumb, doesn’t it?"

“Not at all. Project Evolve. It has a nice sound to it, rolls right off the tongue.” Liam says.

"That's a brilliant idea babes," Louis compliments. "You’ll have to call Mr. Sheldon when we get home so he can look into any organizations or corporations with the same name, hopefully there won't be any. We don't want to get sued."

Niall smiles, "Your ideas honestly sound great. Are there any specific goals you're aiming for? I'm quite interested."

"Rather than dealing primarily with medication and research. I'd like to focus on support groups, safe online group forums, and a secure call line. I'd like to educate. I want to give kids and teenagers the...advancements I never had. I would have loved to have a support group, you know? Instead of walking around, feeling like a freak all the time, it would have been nice to have met other people like me. I wouldn't have felt so alone, I think. I would've have realized my potential on my own. Maybe I'd be more confident."

"You're not a freak." Louis snaps, defensively. His eyebrows are furrowed inwards as he glowers at Harry. “Don’t say that about yourself, please. You know I hate when you get down on yourself.”

Harry sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Louis, come on now. It’s somewhat true, isn’t it? I mean, I’ve never been normal. It’s not normal to fall out on the floor and convulse until I’ve peed myself. I’m a freak. I’m weird. I’m an outcast, whatever you want to call it, I’m not normal babe.”

"Harry...You're not a freak. Don't say that, it bothers me, a lot.”

“It bothers me that you’ve all seen me have my bad seizures. I’m embarrassed. I’m allowed to feel a bit of pity for myself, don’t you think? I don’t feel as singled out this way.”

“Of course you do. Wait, you’re still feeling lonely, Harry? I thought we’ve discussed this before. I told you before you can talk to me, you don’t have to feel this way."

Liam, Niall, and Zayn watch in absolute silence, sitting incredibly still, as to not draw attention to themselves.

Liam shuts his eyes, hoping that Harry will say or do something to end this uncomfortable situation. Harry doesn't say anything at first, in fact Harry doesn't say anything at all.

"Harry?" Louis presses.

"Look, Louis," Harry whispers. His voice is lacking confidence. "The truth is yes, sometimes, I do feel very much alone."

"But why love? I've always tried to be there for you. I'm sorry if I haven't been around enough." Louis takes Harry's hand in his.

Harry glances at him and he sees the sadness bundled in Louis' eyes and he hates himself for a moment. He's made Louis upset, hasn't he?

"It's not you, lovely, it has nothing to do with you. I’ve always felt alone to an extent," Harry smiles softly at him. "Growing up, I was bullied for being different, you know how that goes first hand, don’t you? Kids are mean. They called me a spaz and a freak, told me I belonged to the circus, told me that I was a waste of space and that I was defective, a mistake. They didn't understand why my hands would always shake or why sometimes I'd completely blank out. They hated that teachers always had a certain level of respect for me. I was always a main priority for my teachers. The friends that I did start school with, were no longer my friends by the end of my first school year."

Niall bites his lip. This is possibly one of the worst stories he's ever heard. He swallows harshly and draws in a shaky breath. This has got to be horrible for Harry to share and relive.

"Harry." Liam whispers. "You don't have to..."

"I know," Harry answers. "I _need_ to talk about it. I've always tried to ignore how hurt and alone I felt as a child, but I need to get it out. Sometimes I think about my school days and I realize that no one ever gave themselves the chance to know me or understand me."

Louis shakes his head, patting the top of Harry's hand, "They missed out meeting an amazing person then."

Harry nose scrunches up and his eyes begin to water, "Yeah, I guess so, didn't they? I just - none of you boys really understand me either, you know? I mean, yeah, you understand that I'm sick, or whatever, but you don't understand what it's like to be me. You can't say you know what I go through on a daily basis. We're not at all alike. The four of you have so much in common and then...there's me." Harry swallows harshly. "And that's why I feel alone. You guys are always here for me, which I appreciate, but you'll never understand me completely." He feverishly rubs his hand over his face. "It bothers me. I can't sit down with any of you and have an in depth conversation about epilepsy. You would have to nod along and pretend you knew what I was talking about. I'm not like any of you. My life consists of pills and hospitals and seizures...when the rest of you are normal and I hate it! It's not fair! When am I going to get the chance to be fucking normal?!" He shouts. The shout is sudden, causing all four of the boys to flinch, even Louis releases his hand at first, involuntarily shifting away.  

"Harry. It's okay." Zayn has always been soft spoken, for the most part. He leans forward. "It's okay. You don't have to get yourself overwhelmed, alright? It's okay. You're frustrated, I understand, but it's going to be okay."

"It's okay. That's all anyone ever says. It's not okay," Harry laughs humorlessly to himself, "It's not fair. My life never really got a chance to start, no, do you think anyone before the age of four would remember how life feels without epilepsy? No. All I know is having this stupid disease attached to every fucking thing I do. Now, I'm the boybander with epilepsy, everything I do has to do with epilepsy and I am so fucking sick of all of it. I don't want to do it anymore."

"Harry, come on, stop," Louis whispers. "We were just talking about how excited you were for your organization. You're going to meet a lot of people just like you, babe. Your epilepsy is so important for so many people out there. You're a role model. This organization is going to help more people than you know. It'll be a great experience for both you and me."

"Why would it be for you?" Harry asks. He’s starting to calm down, though his breathing is still heavy and his eyes are still wet with threatening tears.

"I want to learn more about epilepsy. All I know is from either you or articles I've read. I've never met anyone else with epilepsy. I want to understand you more. I learn more about you everyday." Louis repositions his hand to cup Harry's chin. "You are never alone, okay? I don't give a single fuck what those kids said to you in school. You're not a freak. You're not defective. You’re not a mistake. You're Harry, that's it, that's all you are. You're only Harry. And Harry is kind and charming. Beautiful. Brilliant. Strong. Brave. See, you're whatever adjectives you want to be." Louis kisses him softly. "I love you and I will love you whether epilepsy will always be a part of our relationship or not."

 _The timing of that outburst was odd_ , Louis thinks to himself, _maybe he's just fed up, I would be._

“And we’ll always be your best friends, epilepsy or not,” Liam smiles. “You’re an amazing person. Don’t let your past interfere with your powerful future.”

Niall clears his throat, hoping that everyone can forget about Harry's outburst. “Harry, if you need any help with the organization, don't be afraid to let us know. I, for one, would be more than happy to help."

"Right. Thank you for the support." Harry nods, smiling weakly at the three of them.

Moments later, the door to the room is being shoved open and one of the members from their label steps inside. All five of them stand up to greet him, even Louis, despite his look of disgust.

"Sir, what can we do for you?" Liam smiles. The rest of the boys don't speak. Harry takes a side step closer to Louis, taking his hand in his. They never know where these surprise conversations can lead to. They're nerve wracking.

"I have a request, regarding your next album."

Louis can't help himself, "Well what is it?"

"We want the five of you to choose a single by the start of tonight's show. Also, we'd like to know how you want to promote it."

"What's the catch?" Zayn asks.

"There isn't a catch. We need to decide on a single before your fifth album comes out. Any song you'd like to be a single, will be the single. Thank you gentlemen." The older man walks back out.

Niall's the first to speak, "That was really fucking weird."

"This is their way of telling us they're throwing us aside because of the break. They don't give a shit what we do. They don't think they're going to make money from us this year." Louis simply says with a shrug.  

Liam restates, appearing slightly uneasy, "So, the label is demanding we choose a song for the first single before the show. They want us to have a say in promotional aspects as well. What do we do?"

"Why do we have to have it planned so soon though?" Niall asks. He takes a seat beside Liam on the L-Shaped couch. Zayn sits on Liam's other side, Louis to his left, and finally Harry sits on Niall's right.

"Since we're taking a break they would like for us to be prepared beforehand, I suppose."

Louis eyes Liam cautiously, as though there's a hint of distrust, "We get to pick any song we want?" Liam makes a noise of approval. "That's quite a plot twist. Usually, we're only given two options." Louis comments.

"What if we did Lost Souls?" Zayn hums. "It's got a sick rhythm."

"It's awfully slow," Harry argues. "Like, I just...you know Night Changes was our last single. I think we should change it up with a faster song."

Niall nods, "I think Harry's right. What if? Hm." He taps his chin as he thinks it over. "True Lies?"

"That would be a wicked tune. Imagine the music video." Zayn smirks.

Louis shakes his head, "No."

"There was no hesitation there. What, you don't like the song? Julian did an amazing job Louis." Liam presses. There goes the one agreement they almost had in the bag.

"No, no. That song is ace, I agree, but it won't draw in a new demographic. If we're looking to form a more mature fan base than we need to have a mature song. It's simple logic lads." Louis argues.

Niall scoffs, "Our younger fans are great too..."

"They are. I agree. But -"

"Oh boy." Harry mumbles, rubbing his forehead with his fist. Liam sighs, sinking back into the couch.

Everyone thought this would be a simple agreement, but they seemingly forgot that all five of them are opinionated and stubborn, in their own ways of course.

"But," Louis repeats, annoyed, "Our fans that have been here since the early stages, 2010, 2011, have grown up with us. We've all admitted before that Up All Night was directed towards a younger fan base. Each consecutive album has become more developed into the sound we've always wanted. So, I think it makes sense to present the most mature music to our newly grown up fans."

Zayn suggests, forcing himself to stay calm, "Drag Me Down then? I think it would be a stellar single." He wants to be done trying to figure out what steps to take, as a band, prior to the break. It's too stressful.  

The boys all exchange glances before they nod at Zayn's idea for the first single of their new album. Finally, a mutual decision.

Liam smiles, "That's a great song for the single. I think you've done it Zaynie."

"What if we dropped it in the middle of the night?" Harry doesn't mean for the lads to hear his idea, but, of course, they do. He tends to think out loud more often than not.

Liam arches an eyebrow at Harry's idea, "Why would we do that?"

"I'm interested to see how the fans will react." Niall immediately concurs with Harry.

"We'll have to suggest it to the label first."

"Obviously Liam." Louis snidely comments.

"I think...ah," Harry sucks in a deep breath, unable to finish verbalizing his thought. It's similar to the situation in the hallway.

"Harry? Are you alright?" Zayn presses.

"I'm...mmmm - ah." Obviously, the slur of words isn't missed by any of the boys, but the loud groan that leaves Harry's mouth has all of them scrambling to their feet and moving forward. Louis catches Niall's bicep in his hand as soon as the blond moves forward. "He's going to go. I don't know if he's having a grand mal, but don't crowd him, alright, boys?" Zayn and Liam both stare at Harry before they realize that they should allow Louis to solely handle it.

Harry is visibly shaking, "Haz?" Louis sounds panicked. He takes a step closer to Harry, but pauses when he sees Harry's upper body jerk back against the back of the couch. His neck arches and he shuts his eyes tightly. The hitching of his breath makes it easy for Louis to tell that he's trying to keep himself composed even though he's mid-seizure. He isn’t having a grand mal. He’s coherent.

Well, this explains the nausea, the gasping in the hallway, and his sudden outburst earlier. All three things were leading up to this.

Louis takes a seat on the couch beside Harry without another second of hesitance. He makes out the clicking of Harry's tongue against the roof of his mouth. The seizure-induced sound makes Louis's skin prickle with goosebumps. Shivers run up his spine.  "It's okay." He encourages. The right side of Harry's body is the only area being affected by the seizure. Louis realizes that he should have sat himself on Harry's right side, to be of more comfort, but he didn't want to get in the way. "Look at me, Haz. Look at me." Harry opens his eyes, they're wide with discomfort, an uncomfortable look spans across his face, his mouth is pulled in taut line. "You're okay."

Harry opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out other than raspy wheezes.

"Easy," Louis whispers. "Give it a minute love."

Harry gasps in reply, arching his back. His hand latches onto Louis' thigh, his nails and fingertips dig into Louis' flesh. Louis fights the urge to shout out in pain. Harry's strong and the fact that he's only partially in control of his body functions makes it ten times worse. Instead of shoving Harry's hand off, he fights off the tears cycling to the surface, it hurts terribly, and he clutches Harry's hand, rubbing his thumb over Harry's pulled knuckles. "Shh. It's fine."

"Louis, is he all right? It's been going on for close to a minute now." Zayn mentions, eyeing his watch.

Louis barely manages to squeak out, "Y-yeah."

"Are you -"

"Fine. I'm fine."

Harry's stomach rolls in waves of nausea as the whole right side of his body continues to spasm as the seizure develops. Louis gently presses his lips to Harry's temple, telling him softly, "You're alright. Hold on for a few more seconds. You've got to calm yourself down. It'll help darling." Slowly removing his touch from Harry's hand, he slips his hand behind Harry and firmly presses his palm to the bottom of his spine. "Do you think you can breathe with me?"

Harry gazes at him out of the corners of his eyes, he can't physically move his head all the way, but Louis can make out Harry nodding his head.

"Okay," Louis sits up, angles his body a bit more to face Harry, "Listen. Listen to my breathing. Ready?" Harry makes a noise, which must mean yes, considering the current context. "Take a nice deep breath. Inhale." Louis dramatizes his breath in to show Harry that it needs to be big. Harry takes a deep breath in, following Louis' steps. "Release it." He does. "There we go. That's my boy. Keep doing that for me, okay?"

And he continues to breath in and out until the seizure visibly starts to come to a halt. Louis can stop withering in pain once Harry's strong grasp on his leg fades. They'll definitely be a bruise marking his leg for a while.

As soon as the jerking leaves Harry's muscles, he slumps against Louis, breathing heavily. Louis kisses the top of his head, "You okay?"

"I - yeah, I think so."

Louis looks up at the boys and gestures for them to sit back down. He knows that seizures come out of the blue sometimes, but he wonders if there was a probable cause for this one, "Love, are you sure you took your medication this morning?"

"Yeah."

Louis nods. He repositions his hand to rest on Harry's arm. Gently, he soothingly rubs up and down. "Let's take it easy until the show, okay?"

Harry doesn't reply. He buries his face against Louis' side. He's shaking, not from an impending seizure, but because he's uncomfortable and scared. "Shh, it's okay," Louis whispers to him, kissing the top of his head. "Do you want to sleep?" He knows how tired Harry can become after seizures. He doesn't want him being hard on himself later because of his lack of sleep.  

"No. I want to figure out the...single." Harry sniffles against Louis and finally, he gets himself together, and sits up straight.

"Harry, we don't have to figure it out -" Liam starts.

"I want to," Harry reassures. "Let's see what happens if we drop it in the middle of the night."

Niall smiles weakly at him, "I bet the fans will surprise us. I've always known we've never needed all that preparation countdown bullshit."

"Let's do it." Louis agrees, gently massaging Harry's scalp with his fingertips.

They inform the label of which song they'd like to use as their single and they discuss the no promotion for the single. Harry brings up that Beyoncé did an album without anyone knowing and it was a huge ordeal to the pop industry, he seems to think they can do a similar surprise with their single.

The label agree to no promotion, though they agree in a way that makes it seem if the single flops then they won’t take fault for it

After their mutual decision with the label and another few hours of relaxing and rehearsing it's time to head out on stage and start the show.

"Are you nervous?" Niall asks, nudging Louis from behind. He's indirecting Louis's song. Leave it to Niall to make it obvious that something not according to plan is happening.

Harry turns to face them, "Nervous about what?"

Louis glowers at Niall as if telling him to fix it immediately. "For the show? Since we're home. I always think shows at home are more nerve-wracking."

"It's worse when your family's in the crowd. I hate when my mum comes to shows." Harry says.

"We could put on the worst show and your mum would still tell us she loved it. My mum’s the same way."

“That’s the problem.”

“I see where you’re coming from, but I don’t know, I think the unconditional support is nice.”

One of their many, many techs speaks, “You’re on in thirty seconds boys.”

“Here goes nothing.”

The group of them do a last minute huddle, hands all touching in the center. Louis leads the huddle with one of their typical chants, “Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it's off to work we go. We keep on singing all day long. Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, heigh-ho.”

There’s a countdown over the speakers backstage. “3…2...1…”

“Let’s smash it.”

A panel slides open and the intense screams fill their eardrums. Smoke and fireworks shoot off, starting the show off with both a literal and figurative bang.

The shows going well. Harry’s taken back his crowd pleasing antics, to a certain extent of course, but he’s, once again, the most crowd oriented member, Liam falls into second place.

Their vocals are spot on. The crowd is active. They couldn’t have asked for a better first show in the UK.

"O2, how are we feeling?" Liam asks the crowd, walking down the catwalk, he's getting a better look at the crowd. It's hard to believe there's still thousands and thousands of fans that still support them and want to see them perform.

Louis can almost feel the arena shaking with the screams that answer Liam's question.

"I think I can speak for all of us when I say, we are having a great time tonight! You're definitely one of the loudest crowds we've had!" He cheers into his mic. He starts to walk back towards Louis. Once he reaches him, he wraps an arm around his shoulders. "Alright, so right now, I'm going to pass my speech off to Tommo."

"So superficial Payno, ridiculous," Louis teases, "This next song is not one that any of you have heard before," Immediately, there's confusion bubbling from the crowd, screaming ensues. "This isn't a song off of our new album. This is a song I wrote during the last week and I hope you enjoy it." Louis smiles. He sees Harry fidgeting where he's sat down. Harry doesn't know what's going on and he doesn't like being the only one on stage who's at the same level of emotion as the audience.

Zayn, Niall, and Liam all take a seat, near Harry. Harry glances at all three of them, individually, and then as a group, "What's going on?"

"I dunno." Niall shrugs, fighting to hide his smirk.

Jon plays the first few notes on his keyboard, subsequently Dan comes in on guitar, followed by Sandy on bass, and finally Josh does a basic beat with his drumset. The song is slow, almost like a ballad, and Harry's face contracts in confusion. He's never heard of these chords or notes.

He doesn't have a clue what's going on and he can't stand it. "What are you doing?" Harry mouths to Louis.

Louis puts the one moment gesture up with his pointer finger, with his other hand he holds his microphone to his lips. He opens his mouth and the lyrics he sings flow out beautifully, " _I'm really close tonight and I feel like I'm moving inside him_ ," Harry tilts his head to the side slightly, he hasn't heard Louis speak of a new song. He's still confused.  " _Lying in the dark, I think that I'm beginning to know him, let it go, I'll be there,_ " Louis keeps stepping closer to Harry, his eyes remain on him, and it's in that moment he realizes Louis is serenading him.

" _And whenever you fall at my feet, won't you let your tears rain down on me? Whenever I touch your slow turning pain,_ " He stands in front of Harry now. Harry keeps his eyes locked on his, he shakes his head at Louis, he isn't seriously doing this right now. He can't believe Louis is doing this.

Liam pivots his head to watch Harry's reactions from where he's sat. He can already see tears surfacing in Harry's eyes. His jaw is starting to contract and he's biting down on his lip. Zayn wraps an arm around his shoulders, "Look at your boy, huh? You must feel so special right now." He whispers to Harry.

 _"You're hiding from me now, there's something in the way that you're talking, the words don't sound right, but I hear them all moving inside you, know I'll be waiting when you call_ ," It's with that verse that Harry knows the underlying message in the song. He's talking about his epilepsy, but in a poetic way. A way that doesn't make him feel embarrassed.

Harry fists the bottom of his t-shirt, his knuckles are turning white. He doesn't know how to react to any of this. This is nice and Zayn's right, he does feel special, but he doesn't know what to do. " _Hey, whenever you fall at my feet, won't you let your tears rain down on me? Whenever I touch your slow burning pain,_ " Louis can see the nerves physically building up in Harry. He reaches down and take one of Harry's hand in his. He laces their fingers together, slotting their thumbs, and he squeezes reassuringly. He places a kiss to the top of Harry's hand which has most of the crowd screaming. There are individual fans, a few groups, who aren't screaming, instead sitting down with disgusted looks painted on their faces, but it doesn't matter. None of the fans matter to them right now, all that matters to them is each other.

Louis' voice becomes sweeter, slower, and softer when he shifts into the bridge of the song, " _The finger of blame has turned upon itself and I'm more than willing to offer myself,_ _do you want my presence or need my help? Who knows where that might lead, you fall,_ " Harry starts crying. He doesn't even attempt to keep his composure anymore. Louis is sure the noises he hears are sobs. His eyes dart over to Liam, he expected Harry to get emotional, but not like this. Liam gives him a thumbs up, gesturing for him to continue. These aren't sad tears, Louis has to remind himself.

He releases Harry's hand as he sings the last chorus. Zayn has Harry in a tight hug, he can see the muscles in Zayn's arms clenching from holding him. "Oh Harry." Zayn whispers, smiling at his younger band mate.

" _Whenever you fall at my feet, won't you let your tears rain down on me? Whenever I touch your slow turning pain, whenever you fall, whenever you fall._ " The drums fade first, followed by the guitars, and then the keyboard, the reverse order of how it started.

Louis hands his microphone off to Niall, bends down, and he pulls Harry into the most heartfelt hug. Harry buries his face against Louis's collarbone, sobs are wracking through his body, he's trembling, whispering, "Thank you. Thank you. I love you. I love you so much" over and over again.

Louis smiles softly and he tightens his hold around Harry's broad frame, "You're welcome. I love you too." He whispers in Harry's ear. "It's okay. Take a deep breath. I didn't know you were going to start crying like this on me." He can faintly make out the boys endeavoring to stall the crowd which he's thankful for. Hopefully, some of them will refrain from recording all of this.

"We've just been through so much," Harry sniffles. "And you did that for me after all I've put you through. I, oh god, that was the best experience of my life. Thank you."

"We have been through a lot. You haven't put me through anything I didn't want to be part of. I'm sure there's still a long way for us to go, but we've got to take the journey to get there."

Harry swallows, shutting his eyes against Louis, and he nods his head, "Thank you for being the best thing that's ever happened to me. Thank you. I don't know what my life would have been without you. I don't think I'd still be here. Thank you." Harry whispers.

Louis presses his hand to the back of Harry's neck and he swipes his thumb back and forth in a soothing motion. "Shh. Don't thank me. This is what love is. I'm glad I fell in love with you."

Harry calms down gradually. He isn't shaking anymore, but he's still pressed against Louis, "We've got a show to continue. Are you up for it?"

Harry pulls away from him, "I’m up for it." He repeats. He takes Louis's hand in his, intertwining their fingers together, and he lifts their hands up, showcasing them to the crowd. The crowd screams and both of them raise their heads proudly.

****  
  


A few weeks later when Harry’s stood in front of a podium, dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans and a patterned blouse, Louis can honestly say he’s never been more proud of him. Harry appears healthy for the first time in months, wearing a bright smile and showcasing his lively green eyes, as he stands in front of the room of children and reporters. He isn’t exceedingly thin nor is he particularly pasty. His hair has grown out a tad more, now beginning to curl over his ears and messily lay across his forehead, just how Louis likes it.

Louis sits at one of the tables nearing the front of the room, facing the stage where Harry’s stood. An empty chair is on his left and his mum is on his right. Dan, Robin, Anne, and Gemma occupy the other seats at the round table.

Félicité and Lottie sit at a neighboring table with Sophia, Liam, Niall, and Zayn. Other friends, family, and members of their team sit scattered at tables all around the fairly large party room.  The atmosphere is very pleasant, calm, and comfortable. There aren’t any loud screams from the children and adolescents attending and the reporters and journalists are surprisingly respectful. Louis wonders briefly who threatened them, none of them are that polite by their own beliefs, usually.

He angles his chair to face the stage and he watches Harry as he sorts himself out. He presents himself nervously. Louis can see those damn hands of his shaking as he adjusts his medical alert necklace. Harry glances towards him for assurance and Louis gives him a thumbs up, along with a solid nod and a mouthed, “I love you.”

Harry clears his throat and takes a step closer to the podium. He has to lean down slightly in order to speak into the microphone. Louis smiles fondly and only turns his head away when he feels his mum take his hand into hers.

He gazes in Harry’s direction once he begins to speak. Louis can hear the sound of multiple cameras and camcorders turning on.  “Welcome. It’s an honor to see so many participants here tonight. As most of you know, I’m Harry Styles and this is the first official charity event for Project Evolve,” Harry’s introduction monologue starts off rather smooth, the only distraction is the constant clearing of his throat, which Louis recognizes as a nervous tic. Louis maintains a smile, knowing it’ll assist Harry when he looks his way. “My fiancé, Louis, and I are the founders of Project Evolve and we’re both extremely grateful to have the opportunity to be here tonight and hopefully raise the awareness of epilepsy, not only nationally, but across the entire world. We’re also widely appreciative to have the honors of not only raising money for the research of epilepsy, but more so, we’re excited to have been granted the possibility to meet so many amazing and inspiring children and teenagers affected by epilepsy today. That is truly an accomplishment all by itself.”

“That’s my baby.” Anne whispers to Robin.

He wraps an arm around her shoulders. “I know dear. Aren’t you proud?” He kisses her temple.

Louis smiles at them. He knows the feeling of pride quite well, especially today.

“I’m sure mostly everyone here is aware of my situation. If you’re not, then it’s definitely your lucky day, I’m going to take this time to explain. In March of 1998, I was a very fortunate child. At only four years old, I was as healthy as a curious four year old could be. I was discovering the world, learning new words, and meeting new friends. Everyone I met along the way was a  friend of mine,” Harry smiles. “But my life changed forever on April 1st, 1998. It took only a change of the month to turn my life upside down. A few minutes and I would never be the completely healthy child I had once been.On April 1st 1998 I had my first seizure. My mum rang an ambulance and had me rushed to the nearest hospital, where I would have a second seizure hours later. On April 1st 1998 I was tested and diagnosed with epilepsy. That was seventeen years ago, I am now twenty one years old. Over the course of the last seventeen years, I’ve had multiple types of seizures, though my tonic clonic seizures have stayed with me for all seventeen years.”

Louis deeply inhales as he continues to listen to Harry’s shaky voice. Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see Gemma and Robin quietly consoling Anne.

“Up until I was 11 years of age, I was homeschooled by my single mother Anne in fear that public school would, unfortunately, break me down. I love you mum. Thank you for always putting me first,” Harry looks directly at her as she speaks and only smiles to the best of his ability when he sees her raw emotions. “As I entered Year 7, I learned more about myself and also I learned how cruel other individuals can be. I found out there are many misconceptions about epilepsy among not only children, but supposedly responsible adults.” Harry’s lips purse together. He pauses and draws in a sharp breath. “One, epilepsy is contagious. Seriously, there are actual human beings that will avoid an epileptic due to the fear of catching epilepsy. I’ve learned this on first hand basis many, many times. Epilepsy is not contagious because it is a neurological disorder in which nerve cell activity is disturbed. It’s all internal.”

Louis sits up straight in his seat. Hearing Harry talk with such confidence only makes him more joyous. He’s never heard Harry speak so openly or intelligently about his epilepsy.

“Two, epilepsy is extremely rare and if you’re diagnosed you’re automatically a mistake. Many people have never met someone with epilepsy, but just because you, personally, have never seen it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Statistics say that one in twenty six people will develop epilepsy in their lifetime. More than 65 million people are affected worldwide. Three, at least it’s not cancer, you can’t die from epilepsy, it’s not that serious. Epilepsy can be a very serious condition and there are many individuals that die from it. If seizures are not taken care of properly than death is often a very possible outcome.”

Louis becomes rigid with that blunt statement. That’s his number one fear and now Harry’s addressed it. Somehow his epilepsy has become even more real.

“When I was a student, years ago, I was not liked nor respected by my peers. I was strange to them. I was called a freak and a spaz. I was a mistake in the eyes of everyone I met. They didn’t understand me and they didn’t give themselves a chance to understand me. I was treated poorly and I had multiple breakdowns during my school days because I wanted to be accepted more than anything else. I want all the kids out there, both the ones in this very room and the ones watching clips of this speech, to know that it does get better. You may be stuck in your own head right now. I know what it’s like to be afraid of your own mind, but I need you to know that it does get better. I’m prime example of this. I’ve made it seventeen years and I’m marrying the best person I’ve ever met in a few months. He loves me for me and he treats me with so much respect and kindness. I never thought I’d ever be worth anything, but standing here in front of all of you, educating you, is an honor and honestly the most thrilling thing I’ve ever done with my life. There were, and still are days, where I feel alone and sad and don’t want to be around anymore, but sometimes you have to focus on the positives of your life and push forward. It’s hard and I know that, but find a good support system or something that makes you extremely happy and you’ll be okay, I promise. I’ll leave you with that. Thank you all for coming tonight. Let’s have a great rest of the night.” Harry steps away from the podium and walks down the steps of the stage.

As soon as he’s on the main floor Louis throws himself at him, hugging him tightly. “That was beautiful.” He kisses every inch of Harry’s face. “I am so proud of you, oh god, you had me tearing up.”

“It was good then?”

“Good? It was bloody fantastic. That was better than my Believe In Magic speech.”

“No,” Harry coos. “You have a proper calm speaking voice. I was nervous the entire time.”

“That’s what made your speech personable. You did amazing. And - oh my god, I just - I love you more than anything. I’m so proud.”

Before Harry has the chance to tell Louis he loves him too, there’s a delicate voice breaking them apart, “Excuse me? I’m lost.”

Harry takes a step back from Louis. There’s a little girl, no older than eight, staring up at them with wide, frightened brown eyes. “Hi,” Harry slowly gets down on his knees. Louis stands behind Harry, placing his hands on his shoulders, but he doesn’t interfere. He watches the little girl in awe. “I’m Harry. What’s your name?”

“Keira.” She drawls the word out. Her hands are clasped together behind her back and she sways side to side as she looks at Harry.

“Keira, you are absolutely beautiful,” Harry tells her. “Are you here with your mummy?”

Keira nods, “Yeah.”

“Do you remember where you saw her last?”

Keira shrugs.

“Well, why don’t we go find her?” Harry offers her his hand and she wraps her hand around a few of Harry’s fingers. His hands much larger than hers. He stands up and nods for Louis to follow.

The three of them walk across the room and right as Harry starts to ask Keira what her mum looks like, a woman in her early thirties comes running through a throng of people, “Keira! There you are! I told you not to wander off like that, young lady.”

Harry releases Keira’s hand and watches as she runs to her mum. Her mum bends down and embraces Keira tightly.

“I am so sorry about that. She’s always wandering off.”

Both Louis and Harry manage to say at the same time, “It’s okay.”

“You - oh, you’re Harry Styles. And you must be Louis. I’m Julia. It’s an honor to meet you both. Thank you so much for hosting this event. Your speech was a proper tear-jerker.”

Louis reaches for Harry’s hand and intertwines their fingers.

“That’s what Louis told me,” Harry steps closer to Keira. “Does Keira have epilepsy?” He asks, curiously.

“She does, yeah. I always worry she’s going to have a fit when she wanders off." Julia runs her hands through her hair in frustration.

"She's an explorer," Louis smiles. "Curiosity, it's a good thing."

“Mummy says epilepsy makes me special.” Keira tells Harry and Louis.

“Really?” Harry releases Louis’s hand, crouching down in order to be eye-level with the young girl. “That’s what my mummy tells me too. She says she doesn’t know anyone as special as me.”

Keira smiles at him, “My mummy says I’m like the universe.”

Harry glances up at Julia, his eyebrows furrowed, but before he can ask, Louis blurts out, “Why’s that?”

“Hard to understand, yet extraordinarily beautiful,” Julia says. “It doesn’t matter if you understand it or not, it will always be there.”

Louis smiles at that. He agrees.

“What’s this?” Keira leans forward. She pushes Harry’s cross aside and she holds the dogtag in her clammy palm, closing her fist around the piece of metal.

Julia scolds her, “Keira. Don’t be rude.”

“It’s okay,” Harry whispers. “You know sometimes when you’re sick and you go to sleep for a while? And when you wake up your mummy helps you?” Keira nods. “Well, if my mummy or my boyfriend,” He points to Louis. Louis looks displeased with the word boyfriend being used, but smiles nevertheless. “aren’t around when I'm sick this necklace will get me the help I need.”

Harry knows that epilepsy technically speaking isn’t an illness or a disease, it’s a chronic medical condition. It doesn’t matter what it’s referred to, to most, but some epileptics are offended by language such a ‘disease’ or ‘illness’.

“Like a firefighter?”

“Well, sort of, I suppose," Harry nods. “If someone finds me when I’m sick, they read my necklace, and by doing that they can get me help. They’ll help get me to a doctor.”

“Keira, you have a bracelet like that, show Harry.” Julia points to a pink metallic bracelet on Keira’s wrist. Keira holds her wrist out to show Harry. “She doesn’t understand how important it is yet. She only knows that mummy wants her to always leave it on.”

“We’re twins!” Harry cheers.

Keira scrunches her nose up and shakes her head. “No?” Harry pouts.

Keira laughs, "We don't look alike."

"But we've both got cool accessories, yeah?"

Keira smiles at him and releases his dog tag, allowing it to fall back against his chest. She finally realizes, “You’re ill too."

Harry smiles at Keira, “I’ve got the same thing you have, love.”

“Epilepsy?”

“Yeah. It’s a bugger, isn’t it?”

Keira nods, “Yeah.”

Harry bops her on the nose with his finger, “But always remember what your mum tells you. You’re special. Never forget that, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Can I have a cuddle?” Harry asks and Keira smiles. He gives a glance towards Julia, wanting her approval before he pulls Kiera in for a hug. Julia, of course, gives him a firm nod and Harry leans forward, reaching for Keira and he pulls her against his chest.

Keira hugs him back, though her short arms don’t nearly wrap all the way around him, and she giggles suddenly, “Your hair’s tickling me.”

Harry smiles at her and purposely nudges his hair against her cheek. “No! Stop!” She laughs.

She pulls away from him and Julia steps forward, placing her hand on the top of Keira's head, “I’m sure you two have plenty of other guests to attend to. We’ll be on our way.”

“Are you staying with the charity?” Harry asks. “I’d love to see Kiera again.”

Julia thinks about it for less than a second, “Yes. I plan on it.”

“Great. I’ll see you two around then. Bye Kiera.”

"Say bye to Harry." Julia encourages.

"Bye Harry!" Keira runs forward one last time and gives Harry a kiss on the cheek.

"Come on babe." Julia holds her hand out for Keira. She smiles one last time at Harry and Louis before they turn away.  Harry waves at them until they disappear into the mass group of people.

He finally stands up and when he turns around he practically jumps out of his own skin. He forgot Louis had been there. “Aren’t you glad you did this?” Louis asks.

“I never thought it would feel as awarding as it does.”

Louis steps closer to him, taking both of his hands in his, “You treated Keira sweetly. I can’t wait to have children of our own one day,” Their eyes meet. “You’re going to change things for a lot of people Harry.”

“I hope so.”

“You’re handing these kids great advice. You’re changing their lives already and this is only the first step. In some cases you're their lifeline."

“You are too.” Harry argues, quietly.

“Not like you are. You’re a role model. You’re teaching them that it’s okay to embrace their conditions and struggles, Harry, and no one other than you can do it in the same way. You understand their problems. It makes you a good mentor. I watched how everyone reacted to your speech. The parents and the teenagers, especially, were emotional and I could tell everything you said was something they had experienced,” Louis steps closer to him, their chests nearly touch. “This was lifesaving for some of those kids. You can't save everyone, you know that, but I'd be surprised if one kid walked out of here today feeling alone and depressed. I always knew you would turn your situation into something great. It just took a bit of time, is all."

"Yeah, seventeen years," Harry breathing is gentle, his eyelids flutter as he looks down at Louis, “All of this is thanks to you. I wouldn’t be anything without you. Your support is everything. Thank you for this. I couldn’t be happier.”

Louis’s lips pull into a half smile. A nostalgic feeling crosses over him. Caressing Harry’s cheek with one hand, he uses the other to lift his chin. Their nose brush against each other’s moments before Louis’ lips touch Harry’s. The kiss is filled with passion, Louis feels his body yearning for more. He wishes for a second that they were home, but the feeling fades when he remembers where they are. They’re doing a great thing. Harry’s doing a great thing.

Harry shifts away from the kiss, but he doesn’t travel far. He compresses their foreheads together, “I love you.”

“I love you too."

There's a pause between the two of them as the music in the room fades into a slow song, I Don't Want To Miss a Thing by Aerosmith plays over the speakers, and Louis eyes Harry, lips pulling into a smirk. "Care to dance?"

"Of course."

Louis leads Harry to the dance floor and he adjusts the position of his hands, placing one hand on Harry's broad shoulder and keeping the other intertwined with Harry's. Harry places his free hand on the small of Louis's back. Louis lays his head against his hand that rests on Harry’s shoulder. They sway to the sweet melody of the music.

Harry hesitates for a moment before he says, "I think I finally found my reason, Louis."

"What do you mean?"

"I think God, the greater power, gave me the last seventeen years, the heartache, the pain, the depression, the isolation, all so I could do this. I'm meant to help others. My life had to be grueling at times, so I could understand what it's like to drown before I could swim."

Louis picks his head up slightly, gazing at Harry, "Oh, I don't know Harry. Don't you think seventeen years is a bit harsh?"

"It was to show that this wasn't a death sentence. I'm still alive, aren't I? I'm alive and doing impeccably well. I'm in the biggest boyband around, I was given you, and I have golden opportunities to help the world."

Louis doesn't understand how Harry can have so much trust and faith to man he's never met.

"And you, Louis, you're like my own guardian angel."

Louis whispers, touching Harry's cheek, his thumb brushes over his cheekbone,  "Harry. Love, I think you may be reading into this a tad too much."

"No, you are, Louis, I know you are. I always tell you that I've never met anyone like you and it's true. There's something different about you and I can't explain it. It's sort of like you have your own light attached to you and I can see it whenever I look at you."

"Sweetheart."

"My life before X-Factor, before I met you, was awful. But as soon as we met everything fell into place. You were the first person to understand me and you didn't even know me. You've always been indescribable to me."

Louis sighs. He won't argue with Harry.

"Nobody has ever loved me or treated me like you and for that, I'm eternally grateful. You don't have to understand or agree with the way I view this entire situation, that's okay, babe." Harry smiles. "I just think you were given to me for a reason, but I still don't know why I deserve you."

"I know," Louis whispers. His breath puffs against Harry’s jaw. "You are the most charitable and kind person. You've only ever done good. Your life was heartache on top of heartache and you finally deserved something in exchange for your good. I was opposite of you. You've taught me life lessons along the way. You've taught me how to be strong and how to find the positive in any situation. I needed to learn. That's why the universe brought us together." Louis catches Harry's eyes and in that moment he's looking at the past five years of his life. It passes by in seconds, but everything he's ever felt with Harry rushes to the surface, snapshots of both the wonderful and terrible moments they've shared flood his memory, and he nearly gasps at the overwhelming feeling coursing through his entire body. But he chooses to hold it in.

He blinks a few times to clear his vision, swallowing down the unexplainable feeling he's experienced. Harry watches him, confused, his eyebrows are drawn together and his lips are pursed. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Louis places a gentle kiss to Harry’s neck. “Just thinking a bit too much.”

A few moments pass, “Hey Lou?”

“Yes, love?” Louis hums.

“I think we should have this as our wedding song.”

Louis smiles,”I think so too.”   

“Let’s get Aerosmith to perform at the wedding.” Harry rests his cheek on top of Louis’s head, shutting his eyes. He absorbs the music.

Louis teases, “Alright, let me just call Steven Tyler right up then, yeah?”

“I’ll love you forever.”

“You already love me forever.”

“I know.”

It’s easy to say, they’ve never had an even road to travel on, there’s always been bumps and cracks in the pavement, but they travel together. When they find themselves separated, they use instinct to find each other once again.

Both of them know their rough journey is far from over, but the feeling of hope settles into their minds because Louis will always have Harry and Harry will always have Louis. They will arrive at their final destination together. If there was never a journey, would the destination be as meaningful?

Louis has been all the support Harry has needed for the last five years. Their bond grows stronger and stronger with everyday that passes. One day they’ll be married and Louis will still always be there for Harry.

No matter what time it is or where he’s to be located, Louis will always come running.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys! We've reached the end of our journey. I'm sorry it took me so long to get this last chapter up, but it took me forever to edit and write. I wanted to make it one of the best and it turned out to be the longest, at just over 20k. It's been almost six months since the beginning of this story and I've honestly learned so much about epilepsy. When I started this fic it was to raise epilepsy awareness because I feel as though epilepsy is a medical condition not talked about enough. But as time went on I enjoyed the characters I created and the realistic situations I could write. I know not everyone likes this story, because some are offended by the content and that's okay, but still a major thank you to everyone who's ever even clicked on it to give it a chance, even if they immediately clicked out of it. you're the real stars of this story. This is officially the first chaptered fanfic I've ever finished. I should throw myself a party. This story has been a blast to write and I hope to do more works in the future. I have such an attachment to this story and I'm sad to see it end, but that's what happens. So, as always, thank you for your views, kudos, comments, and bookmarks. You inspire me to write. Have a great day/night/afternoon! Huge love - E.x
> 
> (note that in fall at your feet, I changed the pronouns around a bit so it was more personable) fall at your feet (original) - crowded house - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kW_5YdPL9Go  
> fall at your feet (cover) - james blunt - (my favorite version) -https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LjH1hhOccQQ  
> i don't want to miss a thing - aerosmith - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ss0kFNUP4P4
> 
> Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFnIBBVWbMw
> 
> feel free to give me a follow on twitter @terrestrialhaz (we can be super cool mutuals!)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Drug in Me is You by queen_of_the_unseen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8095966) by [Mistress_Kalamity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistress_Kalamity/pseuds/Mistress_Kalamity)




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